Insanity
by Sensara
Summary: Oratt, from "Stigma" Season 2, was simply trying to get back to Vulcan before the blood fever gripped him. Unfortunately, some things don't always turn out as planned, especially when a young human woman gets involved. Rated M. For Fameanon.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the OC. This story follows Dr. Oratt from "Stigma" (season 2), and is dedicated to Fameanon, because she asked for it. Also, this is Oratt's comeuppance for being a jerk.**_

_For Fameanon_

Oratt hurried along the busy street, silently cursing every human out this late at night. He knew from his xenobiology studies that humans required around eight hours of sleep, and yet here were at least a hundred out socializing when they should be home sleeping, as in out of his way. The fever had been growing all throughout the Inter-Species Medical Exchange Conference, and now it weighed down on his chest, like some ethereal presence sent to haunt him. The sentiment was highly illogical, and he banished it as soon as it surfaced. There were no such thing as ethereal ghosts such as the ones found in human folklore and legend, and he wasn't about to waste his time thinking of such things.

His expression was dour, but it kept the humans from looking at him for too long, and they avoided him as he passed them by. The sooner he was off this cold, watery planet and back in the deserts of his homeworld, the better. Chicago, or the Windy City as it was aptly nicknamed, was the most unpleasant place Oratt had ever visited in his memory. He would take a week in the Forge over another day in this cold and dreary settlement; luckily the Conference had ended today, and he would be leaving for Vulcan early in the morning on the first available transport.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not see the pedestrian waiting to cross the street until he ran into the person. He was abruptly jolted from his thoughts, and the human grabbed the street lamp to keep from falling over.

"Sorry, sir, didn't see you there," she said politely. He frowned at her curly caramel hair and her skimpy attire; she was wearing nothing more than a midnight blue sack cinched with a belt. Her hair was loose and free down her back (an entirely inappropriate style for females, in his opinion), and her outfit was completed by tall heels. He did not see how two tiny sticks could hold her weight, but she somehow had learned how to balance in those ridiculous shoes.

He scowled at her and did not dignify her apology with a reply. After all, she had been blatantly in his way and hadn't even bothered to move. Insufferable humans! What he wouldn't give to be on Vulcan now, away from this soggy metropolis!

"Yeah, just keep on walking, weirdo!" she called after him. "Don't apologize or anything!"

He turned and glared at her; the woman had the gall to speak to him! "Then I will not," he said firmly, turning and walking on to his hotel.

As he settled down for meditation that night, he found it even harder for his feverish mind to focus on his daily mantras. Before his mind's eye he saw the woman out on the street, her dark blue eyes bright with irritation, her caramel hair curling down her back, her dress barely reaching past her thick, luscious thighs...

He stopped his thoughts immediately and backtracked. Since when were human thighs thick and luscious? And why was he thinking of thighs in the first place, much less a human woman's?

He sighed and resumed his mantras, passing yet another sleepless night in meditation.

…

The dawn was cold and clear, and how the humans managed to survive, even thrive, in this miserable place was beyond him. Oratt was in a slightly better mood this morning, but he was still short with the other doctors and very eager to get off this planet. It was a seven-day journey to Vulcan...seven days of meditation and further misery. What he wouldn't give for the fever to be over, so he wouldn't have to worry for another seven years...

"Hey there, weirdo," a voice said beside him, and he twisted abruptly toward the voice. It was _her_...her hair was braided back away from her face this morning, which he considered an improvement in her propriety. She was dressed in rumbled civilian clothing, a simple black sweater and slacks, and reasonable shoes.

"Care to apologize for what you said to me last night?" she demanded, her blue eyes blazing with anger. He flared his nostrils and looked down at her with narrowed eyes.

"I owe you nothing," he said haughtily, then turned away from her. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm going to Vulcan."

He twisted around to face her and narrowed his eyes again. "Inflict your presence on my world?" he hissed, and her expression turned to outrage. His nostrils flared out further; he couldn't help but notice that she looked rather agreeable when she was angry...

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she growled, stepping closer to him. "You know what? I'm going to take the high road on this one and assume you never learned proper manners. But the next time you talk to me like that, I'm probably going to slap you across the face. Got it?"

He glared at her. "Violence...yet another sign of your species' barbarism..." he muttered darkly.

She snorted. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"I do not see how my personal habits are any of your concern," he shot back, his ire rising with each passing minute he spent talking to this female.

"Trust me, honey bun, I don't want to know anything about your personal habits."

He frowned in confusion. "I am not a pastry."

To his surprise, she burst into derisive laughter, and he stared at her, the beginnings of real anger stirring in his blood...

"You know, weirdo, you're kind of growing on me!"

"Would you cease calling me those ridiculous names?"

Her laughter descended into childish giggles, and she shook her head. "Well, what should I call you?"

He narrowed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I believe it would be unwise for you to address me at all. Stay out of my sight on this journey."

She pouted up at him. "Seriously, what is up with you? Having a bad day?"

"You are not helping matters," he ground out, clenching his teeth.

"Yeah, well, you're no ball of sunshine yourself," she spat. "Tell you what...let's end this here and now. Let's not talk to each other on this transport, and let's just stay out of each others way. Ok?"

"That would be acceptable," he said coldly, picking up his luggage as the shuttle descended in front of them. She picked up her bag, but waited until he was several paces in front of her before walking after him.

The sooner he was on Vulcan, the better.

…

There were several emotions coursing through her, but the most predominant feeling Desiree was experiencing was confusion. She hadn't been on this transport two days, but she could feel his eyes following her when they crossed paths, which was far too often for her tastes. Oratt, as he was called (she had asked another passenger his name; it was very fitting for him in her opinion), was hardly ever seen outside his quarters, and as luck would have it, they were assigned rooms across from each other. When she exited her room to go to the flight deck and read, he always seemed to be coming back from the mess hall with tea. His cold, mud-colored eyes would narrow and watch her disappear around the corner or into her room, and she found it disturbing. Hadn't they agreed to ignore each other? To stay out of each others way? And yet every time she left the room, he was there.

By the "afternoon" of the third day, irritation and suspicion had joined the confusion, and she was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at the insufferable Vulcan when he looked at her. But instead, she offered him a few fake smiles, and, possibly out of ire, his nostrils would flare.

Late that "evening", she was singing softly to herself as she brushed her hair, and she heard the door chime. Putting down the hair brush, she crossed the small room and opened the door for her visitor. When she saw who it was, her face fell.

"I would appreciate it," Oratt growled, "if you would stop making such a racket in here. I am trying to meditate."

"What is your problem?!" she demanded, crossing her arms across her chest. "Since when is singing softly to oneself a racket?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she could tell she was getting under his skin. Perfect.

"I can hear you in my quarters. I am..._asking_," he said the word with effort, "that you carry on your activities with silence."

"None of my other neighbors are coming to my door at 2200 hours and complaining," she shot back. "That doctor down the hall, Strom...he's Vulcan, and I haven't heard a single complaint from him."

Oratt's eyes flashed dangerously, and her heartrate increased for a second. She realized belatedly that she might be playing with fire, that something might be wrong with Oratt, but still, she was perfectly within her rights to sing softly to herself in her room.

"I'm warning you, Desiree," he growled, and she frowned up at him. "Do not push me."

"I'm about to push you out of my room if you don't shut up and let me-"

The rest of her sentence was cut off when he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the wall near the door. He pinned her against it, pressing himself hard against her legs, and his fingers entwined themselves in her caramel locks. With a fistful of her hair in his hand, he tugged downward, and she gasped, her body flooding with fear.

"I _said_," he growled again. "Don't. Push. Me."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Desiree breathed, struggling to break free of his relentless grip, to no avail. He smirked mirthlessly at her, and it was a frightening sight.

"Not even enough strength to fight me...you'd die by the night's end..."

"Die from what?" she squeaked, her bravado lost with her voice. Instead of respond, he buried his nose into her hair near her ear.

"You will do what _I _say, you insufferable human," he hissed, crushing her to the wall. She wondered wildly if he had gone crazy. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear," she breathed. "Now _get off me_!"

He pulled away, and his eyes, which had been clouded and dark, suddenly cleared; he immediately released her.

Without so much as an apology or an explanation, he stormed out of her room.

_**A/N: Next chapter...definitely rated M, so fair warning, ok?**_


	2. Fever, Part 1

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thanks so much to Fameanon (and Oratt and Solok), dinopoodle, 09sasha, Forsharry and snapeissexy for reviewing! I didn't expect this story to get many reviews, but you guys are awesome!**_

_**Oratt, in the words of Imogen Heap... "A-ha! Caught you now, caught you red-handed in the biscuit tin..." ("A-ha", Imogen Heap). We'll talk after this chapter, my sweet.**_

_**A/N: Just a reminder...this chapter is rated M. Don't like, don't read.**_

Oratt was sprawled on his bed, shaking, the sweat gathering at his hairline, at his wrists, at his lower back...the fever had come early, and he was in agony as it racked his body. From head to toe, he was flushed green, and a light sheen of sweat pricked his skin. His robes, his shirt, everything on his top half was cloying, suffocating him, stifling him...it was far too hot...

His fevered brain recalled that Desiree's skin was pleasantly cool...

In a fit of madness early on the second day (he hadn't even realized what he had done until he suddenly knew her name), he had apparently hacked the computer and searched for her in the passenger manifest. She was traveling to Vulcan for personal reasons, and although he didn't want to dwell on her, she was locked in his brain...she smelled like woodsmoke and butterscotch candy, and he wondered what it would be like to trace his tongue along the flesh of her neck, to taste her salty-sweet skin. He closed his eyes at the thought, and a moan was forced from his trembling lips. _Desiree_...

He wanted to resist the urges that gripped his being. He wanted to stay put, to meditate the fever away...but the temptation, her seductive, sensual body floated before his mind's eye...he couldn't take this anymore!

He cast away his shirt and robes and stormed out the door, crossed the hall and pressed incessantly on her doorchime. He had to wait for five minutes before she answered the door, and he waited in agony, his mind dimly processing that it was 0200 hours, and she was most likely asleep...

The door opened, and his eyes slithered over her scantily clad form. She was only wearing a camisole that barely reached her midriff, and very short shorts, leaving her luscious, creamy thighs exposed to his vision.

He steadied himself against the doorway and glared down at her, his body swaying with the effort of not charging her and taking her then and there.

"Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?" she hissed, rubbing her sleep-clouded eyes with one hand. Her other reached for the control panel, but his hand shot out and caught her wrist before she could close the door on him. With little effort, he backed her into her room, then reached behind him and closed the door, locking it with a few button strokes.

Her deep blue eyes followed his movements, and they widened in fear...it was just as he suspected. She would hate him for this, detest what he was compelled to inflict on her...and there was nothing he could do to stop himself. The fever was here, waiting to be assuaged, and it did not care who he took, as long as he took.

The terror in her eyes was replaced with wild anger, and her eyes narrowed as she struggled to get away from him.

"Let me go, you bastard!"

Her free hand reared back, and sharp pain erupted across his cheek, momentarily blinding him before he shoved the pain away and turned back to her. The violence had not deterred him, but rather made him even more focused on his goal...

Her surprised gasp was a delight to his ears as he crushed her against the wall, pinning both her hands above her head.

"You have fire in your veins, I see," he whispered in her ear, licking the outer shell with the lightest force he could muster. She was silent for a moment, but he watched in surprise and growing arousal as her eyelids slid shut and her lips parted. Her moan was the most exquisite symphony, an audibly lascivious caress in the dimly lit room.

"I enjoy it," he continued, and she whimpered.

"What are you playing at, Oratt?" she hissed, turning her head to gaze into his eyes. Hers were still clouded with sleep, but they were growing dark. _Perfect_, his fever-addled brain purred.

He chuckled darkly, a frightening sound even to his ears, and before she could say another word, he was at her throat. He bit down just hard enough to barely pierce her skin, and he delighted in the exquisite sound of her gasp. A tiny bead of red blood tickled his lips, and he lavished his tongue over the light wound, groaning as the sweet, metallic liquid slipped down his throat.

His teeth plunged into her flesh, and she yelped, her body stiffening beneath him. Warm, sweet blood gushed into his mouth, and he could feel himself salivating at the taste of it. He sucked greedily at the mark, groaning, savoring the sublime flavor of her life essence, the likes of which he had never experienced.

He pulled back enough to see that she was leaning back against the wall, her face turned upward, her eyebrows raised, her lips parted, her eyes closed. She was panting for breath, and as he teased her neck with his tongue, he could feel her press her groin urgently to his, her hips gyrating in a primal dance, silently yet clearly begging him to continue.

"You enjoyed that?" he whispered incredulously, not daring to believe that she was finding pleasure in this. _Pon farr _was grossly one-sided; she was nothing but flesh to feed his hunger, nothing more...

If she _was_ finding pleasure in this...he wasn't sure how his fever-addled mind would react. Would it amplify his symptoms, making things harder on both of them?

She was silent for what seemed like an eternity. "Yes," she finally groaned in affirmation. "I like that. Could you please...do it again?"

His teeth were digging into the flesh of her shoulder before he could string together a coherent thought, and he realized that her enthusiasm would make only make things more intense between them, but the fever was quite eager to have blinding need directed back at it, and he relished her desperate groans.

"_Yes_," she breathed. "Hurts so good..."

He tried contemplating the phrase, but the fever was focused on pleasing her...to have the woman beneath him _crave _the heat, the hunger, the violence and animal urges...

_That would be bliss_, the fever whispered as he licked up more of her blood. _Sweet...so sweet..._

"I don't mean to...rain on your parade or anything," she panted, and he could feel her hands clenching and relaxing beneath his terrible grip, "goodness knows I haven't felt like this in – _aaahhh_!" she moaned as he bit her a third time in the center of her breast bone, right above the neckline of her camisole. "But why...what...why are you doing this?" she managed to say with some effort.

He only licked the third wound once before sealing his lips firmly over hers. Here was the moment of truth: she would most likely despise him for this admission...she would refuse him...he wouldn't be able to tear himself away...and he would kill her...

"I must," he groaned, releasing her hands and cupping her face, staring down into her eyes with a desperate gaze, "or I will die."

Her deep blue eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, though no words came out. "Vulcans don't joke, do they?" she breathed.

He growled. "I am serious, Desiree...I..._need _you...every seven years...mature Vulcans experience this...this _hell_, as you humans call it...I have no logic, Desiree...I have no control...my body is...it is an overwhelming need, a primal urge...mate, or the fever kills you."

She raised her hand and pressed it to his forehead, and she frowned deeply. "You're burning up," she whispered. "But if all I have to do is...mate with you...that's no so bad, is it? Or are you that repressed? Does the thought of sex repulse you, doctor?"

"_No_," he growled. "Don't you understand? It is not mating as you know it...it is violent...passionate...unrestrained...if I do something that makes you uncomfortable...I won't...I _can't_...stop this urge..." He took in a deep breath. "With my strength...I could kill you..."

Her eyes lit with comprehension. "So that was what you were talking about earlier...that I'd die before the night's end?"

He nodded. "Yes," he breathed. "But it's all moot now, Desiree...I will have you..._I will take you_..."

His eyes were closed shut, waiting for her to reject him, for her to struggle, for her to scream, to do anything...but they flew open when he heard her moan, when he felt her return the pressure, digging desperately into his pelvic bone.

"So you're saying," she gasped, "that you won't be able to control yourself...that no matter what I say or do...you're gonna have sex with me?"

He hung his head. "Yes...I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

He looked up at her, a frown growing on his lips. The fever, however, had ratcheted up several degrees, and his fingertips slipped from her face and dug into her thighs. "What?" he breathed.

Her lips sealed tightly over his, and he groaned as she pried his lips open and thrust her tongue into his mouth. She searched him with lustful fervor, tickling his soft palette, sliding along his lips, tangling his tongue in a duel for dominance. His fingernails scratched down the material of her flimsy excuse for shorts, then found her creamy flesh.

"I don't understand," he groaned as she pulled away and kissed his neck. What he wouldn't give to have her bite him there...

"Honey sweet," she breathed, "you have a lot to learn about humans...maybe I need to teach you..."

He reared his head back as she licked at his throat while simultaneously combing her fingers through the spread of hair on his chest. She took a fistful of it in her hand and tugged him closer, nipping at his lips as she did so, and he gasped as the thrill of arousal zipped down his spine.

"Take me," she growled against his lips, "pound me into the ground, whatever...and I'll match you move for move, honey bun."

"I will take you multiple times, over and over...there will be no stopping until I'm satisfied," he growled, giving her one last chance to refuse him...perhaps that would be enough for him to leave...

She chuckled darkly as she traced his ear with her tongue. Another thrill gripped his body at her action, and heat was blooming in his chest, in his groin...his fingertips were burning...

"Good, I like the sound of that," she groaned, taking the tip of his ear in her mouth and sucking gently.

It took everything he had not to throw her to the ground and rip off her clothes, but he did not have the control to stop his fingers from curling around the neckline of her camisole. One simple tug and it would be off her, and he could feel through her clothes that she wasn't wearing a bra...

"This will last for at least two days, perhaps as long as four," he whispered desperately. This was her last chance to get away... "I've heard of some that go on for five..."

"Mmm," she moaned, "even better..."

The flames rose, consuming his flesh, his mind, his spirit, his very being, and he was taking her with him, no matter what. If she confessed to enjoying this so much, he would give her much to enjoy...he couldn't believe this was happening...

But with a primal growl, she claimed his lips again, and he gave himself over to the scorching flames.

…

"Mmm," she moaned, "even better..."

She could tell he was teetering on the edge of giving in to whatever was plaguing him, but every move he made, every moan and growl from his mouth, the very thought of being needed so desperately...she was aroused now, something she thought would be impossible with him. But maybe it was just how it had to be...and Oratt did have very nice eyes, and a very attractive voice...she was determined to show him that humans weren't weak, and definitely not lacking in the sexual department. She would rock his world if it was the last thing she did...death by sex..._what a way to go_...

She growled at him, hoping it would send him over the edge, and as she kissed his mouth, something in him seemed to break. He wasn't joking when he said this would be violent, but his desperate and hungry search of her mouth with his tongue...heat was pooling in her gut, and a steady throbbing was strumming at the apex of her thighs...who knew Vulcans could kiss like _that_...she moaned, enjoying every minute, every movement, the prospect of him having her violently and passionately for perhaps as long as five days...no wonder they kept this a secret...

With an easy tug, her camisole was ripped from her body, freeing her breasts, and an electric thrill coursed through her, zipping up her body from her gut to her diaphragm. She gasped into his mouth and pressed urgently against him, communicating her need to him. In a way, she needed this as much as he did. It had been four years since she had been with a man, four years of loneliness and frustration. This would be the perfect time to release it all. Somehow, she could tell it had been even longer for him, perhaps not since the last time he went through this...

A surge of pity ran through her at the thought, but it abruptly dissipated as her shorts went the same way as her camisole, and her underwear right after that. She was naked before him, but the way he was staring at her (like he _really _liked what he saw) made whatever shame she had disappear.

In the blink of an eye, her back was pressed to his hot chest, and his growing want was digging into her backside. She moaned and leaned back into him as his feverish hands trailed down her body. One cupped a breast and toyed with it, caressing and squeezing it, rolling her stiffening peaks between his fingers. But the other trailed down further, combing her light brown curls with his dextrous fingers before reaching between her legs to the apex of her thighs.

She was already wet, but when his fingers rubbed against her (not even penetrating her), more of her juices flowed, oozing over his fingers.

He thrust two digits into her dripping sex, and an elated gasp escaped her mouth.

"Oratt!" she cried softly, melting back into him, moaning in ecstasy as his deft fingers twirled around inside her.

He chuckled, burying his nose into her tangled caramel locks. "You like that, don't you?" he purred even as he thrust harder. His other hand abandoned her breast and held her tightly to him, and she was glad for the support as his administrations were leaving her weak at the knees. His fingers were searching, probing, exploring her deeply, and she cried out again at the shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her.

"Honey sweet," she whimpered. "_Oh_...don't stop...don't ever stop..."

He thrust his fingers even harder, grazing against the most sensitive of her insides, and she vocalized her pleasure with louder and louder cries, until she was calling out to him.

"Please!" she howled. "_Please_!" Why she felt the need to beg was beyond her, but she didn't care as her world exploded into a paradise of fire and electric thrills, and through the pleasure, she screamed at the wonderful pain at her neck, where he was once again piercing her skin.

"YES!" she cried as she reached the heights of bliss, and after a few minutes, she collapsed back against him, dimly aware that the apex of her thighs was dripping wet with her emissions.

Oratt withdrew his drenched fingers and brought them before her eyes, rubbing the thick, viscous substance between his thumb and forefinger.

"Such passion," he whispered in her ear, and she turned in time to see him lick his fingers clean. "Such decadence...I find it exquisite."

She moaned and closed her eyes, but they snapped back open when he dragged her to her bed. He shoved her toward it, perhaps wanting her to lie down so they could continue, but she caught herself and turned to him.

He narrowed his eyes until she shoved him into a sitting position and undid his pants. "Let me have a turn on top," she whispered as she shoved his trousers down his legs, "and then you can do whatever you want with me after that."

He growled and breathed in sharply as she tore his underwear from his body. "I guess...that would be acceptable..."

"Trust me, honey bun," she replied, licking the tip of his ear as she straddled him, "you'll enjoy it."

She took him in his hands and caressed him, up and down, fervently fast then teasingly slow, and he reared back his head and moaned; he grew hard and stiff in her hands.

"Desiree," he breathed, and she kissed his parted lips.

She giggled at him. "You ain't seen nothing yet, boy."

She settled over him, and they both gasped in mutual pleasure as she bobbed up and down over him. Her fingers tangled in his precise bob, casting it into disarray, and as their pace quickened, she pressed him urgently to her chest, her head bowed over his gray hair as she panted and moaned. She reared back and thrust with strength she didn't know she had, and he roared, biting and nipping at her collarbone. Their differing body temperatures made sweat bead on their bare skin, and her nails scratched down his back, drawing thin lines of green blood.

With a mighty roar, his warmth exploded inside her, and she felt release as well, the most intense high she had felt in...ever. He threw her down onto her back as they recovered and straddled her before she could move, and grabbing the shirt she had cast aside before going to bed that night, he pinned her arms above her head and tied them securely to the slats in the headboard. She gasped, immediately aroused at this new position, and he smirked down at her.

"I will not have you running away from me," he growled. "You were right...I did enjoy that. Immensely."

She smirked back, rousing him with the eager convulsion of her hips, but no more words needed to be said as he took her with a strong thrust, as they descended into the fire.

_**A/N: Just a fair warning, the next chapter will also be M. Oratt...you've got some explaining to do.**_


	3. Fever, Part 2

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt and Gelnon/Weyoun), dinopoodle, 09sasha, snapeissexy, bina W, Kel420 and T'Sara for reviewing! You guys are all awesome; I never expected this story to get this much support!**_

_**A/N: This chapter is also M, at least most of it, but skipping this chapter won't affect the plot (yes, Fame, there is a plot after all this smut :D).**_

Desiree screamed into his mouth and bucked her hips against him, and Oratt gave one last thrust before her world exploded once more in heat and ecstasy. He had been going at her for close to 12 hours, according to the timepiece on the bedstand. It was nearly 1400, but it seemed like he might be ready to take a small break and perhaps let her sleep.

She was exhausted and wet with sweat, and she felt sticky, but none of that seemed to deter him from having another go. He lifted her hips once more and continued the dance, and she laid back into the pillows and moaned. _Beautiful torture_...those two words echoed over and over again in her head as he rocked her back and forth. She had lost count of how many times he had taken her, but she knew she now had about ten bite marks all over her body, most on her neck and shoulders. But he had bitten her in other places: right above her breast, on her stomach, her inner thigh...

She convulsed heavily as they finished together yet again, and he collapsed over her, weaving her hair between his dextrous fingers, licking her neck as they came down together from the high.

Finally, he moved off of her and laid down beside her, pulling her against his chest and burying his nose in her hair. She draped her arm around his waist and let her eyelids droop, and even as she drifted off to sleep, her thumb caressing the skin of his back, she heard him whisper her name one more time.

"Desiree..." he breathed, pulling her closer to him. She shifted a little to get comfortable, though comfort was a relative word. His skin was still burning hot and just as drenched in sweat as hers, and the room was rather cool, but she decided to not let it bother her. And besides, he smelled kind of nice, musky, sort of like the cologne she had found when they cleaned up her grandfather's house after his death...

Despite her exhaustion and the soreness and the weird dichotomy between the heat of his skin and the coolness of the room...despite it all, she fell asleep with a slight smile on her lips.

…

He plunged his teeth into the back of her neck, hastily shoving her caramel locks over her shoulder, out of his way. He smiled in triumph as she pressed herself to the wall; one of his hands blocked her in, but the other was wrapped around her waist to hold her in place. It had been hard enough for her to stand up, let alone walk, and she needed all the support he could give her. And he didn't mind helping her. He was quite pleased to be of use. After all, she was risking her life to save his...yet she engulfed him, tantalizing him with her rampant desire, her insatiable appetite...it whetted his own craving for her and made the situation bearable...more than bearable, _enjoyable_...

Her body convulsed as he thrust harder, and she was clinging to the wall with all her might, her knuckles turning pale as she struggled to stay still. But he didn't want her to be too still...he liked it when she bucked into him, when she made gravity do the work for him...and the sight of her arching her body into his ministrations was arousing in its own right...

With a gasp, he felt an explosion of warmth and blissful release, and he held her back to his chest lest she collapse against the wall. It took her several minutes before her breathing returned to normal, and she reached behind her and stroked his face. Even heated by their passions, her skin was still cool against his, warm enough to be comfortable, but cool enough to soothe him. She felt exquisite in his arms, her curvy form nestled wonderfully against his chest. He buried his nose into her hair and breathed in her scent, her titillating aroma...butterscotch and woodsmoke..._what a delightful combination_...

Every Vulcan male hated the fever, but one of the worst parts of _pon farr _was when the madness relinquished its grip on his brain for a minute, sometimes more, letting him see the damage he was inflicting on his mate, letting him see the terror and the hatred and the disgust in her eyes...

Yet, in every tiny, terrifying moment of clarity, when he saw Desiree lying beneath him...the first time, he was nearly overwhelmed with gratitude at the hazy lust residing in her eyes, the mischief, the beginnings of affection...the second time, the moment had been brief, because lust quickly retook his senses at the sight of her lips wrapped around him, at the electric thrill that went through him when she slid her satisfied gaze up to meet his...

And now came another fleeting moment of sanity as he held her against his body and let her catch her breath. Even in clarity, he found her scent intriguing and exotic, and he could feel a stinging sensation in his eyes as he felt her contentment through his fingertips...he could feel that she didn't hate him, that she didn't find him disgusting...she didn't hate him..._she didn't hate him_...

For a moment, he thought he felt a twinge of something in the back of his head, an echo, a fleeting whisper...but then it was gone, and the fever overtook his synapses once more.

…

Desiree woke up with a groan. Her head was throbbing, several points on her body ached, and her mouth felt like carpet. She opened her eyes, rubbing them to clear them of sleep, but she knew from opening them that she wanted to close them again as soon as possible.

Oratt was fully dressed in his uniform and a labcoat, and he was silently reading a PADD on the other side of the room, as far away from her as he could get, it seemed.

"There is some water by the bed," he said without looking up. Desiree pushed her hair out of her face and spotted the glass, then gulped down the liquid, grimacing as it reinforced the dry, unpleasant taste in her mouth.

"Thanks," she croaked. She tried sitting up, but only managed to flop back down onto the bed again. That seemed to get Oratt's attention, as he leaped up from his chair and set down the PADD, then slowly approached her.

"Are you injured?"

"Sore as hell," she whispered. "How about you? Are you ok?"

His brown eyes darkened slightly, and she thought she saw pain flicker across his face. At the same time, she felt a surge of shame, guilt and gratitude that came from nowhere, and she frowned up at him. She was grateful he was alive, sure...but why be ashamed or feel guilty? He had already seen her naked, and although she felt a little self-conscious around him, guilt wasn't an emotion she ascribed to the situation. She had apparently succeeded in saving his life, and if anything, that was worthy of celebration.

But the feelings were gone as soon as they appeared, and he sighed.

"I am well again...thanks to you."

"You're absolutely sure?" She didn't go through all that just to see him keel over for some other reason. "Is there anything else I can help you with while I'm here and thinking about it?"

"No," he said quickly. He paused and looked away. "Though your concern is noted...and appreciated."

She giggled, and it sounded slightly wheezy. She coughed. "Why thank you, honey sweet...but I'm just being human. I don't want you dying on me...not after I saved your life. Kind of defeats the purpose."

"I assure you, I am adequate," he grumbled, and she grinned. Same old Oratt. "Now I must see to your injuries."

He sounded like the prospect didn't appeal to him, and Desiree could hardly blame him. After all, he had been the one inflicting them, even if he wasn't in his right state of mind. But other than the headache, the soreness in her lower abdomen and the overall ache (she looked down and discovered several bruises on various parts of her body), she didn't feel too bad.

Oratt took a deep breath and turned to a bag at the foot of the bed, and he rifled through it, pulling from its depths a hypospray, which he then injected into her neck.

"This will ease the pain," he murmured, avoiding her gaze as she looked up at him. He then fetched a dermal regenerator and began healing the bite marks that littered her body. He helped her sit up, and she wished he would sit down so she could lean against him, but instead he leaned her against the headboard, propped up with a few pillows.

"Any other symptoms?" he asked, sounding as if he didn't want to know the answer. Her headache was abating, so she decided not to bring it up. He pulled out a scanner and ran it up and down her body, and his eyes were filled with guilt as he turned away and loaded another hypospray.

"This is for the urinary tract infection you have. If that's all...do you need help with anything?"

She grinned. "I don't think I could walk to the shower to save my life. Be a dear and help me, would you, please?"

He obligingly held her elbow with feather-light touch, but it quickly became obvious that she needed more than that to stay on her feet.

"Come on, Oratt," she chided. "We were at each other for...how long has it been?"

"Two days," he said, and she thought she could hear pain in his voice. At her command, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her elbow with more support, and they made it to the bathroom. The walls sufficed for her to stay upright (she may not be blaming him for anything, but she wasn't about to jump into the shower with him...after all, she needed a little space, now that everything was back to normal), and he agreed (to her surprise) to stay outside the door, should she need anything.

…

Oratt waited until the door to the bathroom was closed and the sonics were turned on before sliding down the wall to the floor. Her blind acceptance of his condition, her willingness to help him, her wonderful aid, and now her forgiveness, given freely...the fact that she held him blameless...it was overwhelming him, and he could feel tears prick his eyes. He took a deep breath and folded his hands for meditation, but all he could focus on was her concern for him, how, even after all that he had done to her, his touch did not repulse her...that after all he had inflicted on her, she was still willing to help him, should he need it...how could she grant him that so freely? How had he stumbled across this woman, this...being...perfection personified...Desiree...

The sonics turned off, and he heard her step out of the shower. "Doctor?"

He took another deep breath and got to his feet, then opened the door. He immediately averted his gaze from her naked form, as it was making him...hot. His blood had been heated to a fever pitch over the last two days, and he didn't need to bring any more shame upon himself.

"Yes, Ms. Beaumont?"

"Could you fetch my bag for me, please?" She was brushing out her long, caramel locks. "I'd appreciate it."

He immediately turned around and fetched her bag, then set it on the counter. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, could you hold me up while I get dressed? I don't think I want to risk falling over and cracking my head open."

He paused, not sure if it was wise for him to touch her, but it was hardly his place to complain...after all, he was the reason she couldn't stand up on her own. He held her shoulders as she put on her undergarments, and he stared at the top of her head as she did so, relentlessly gazing at her hair, not daring to let his eyes drift downward to her exposed and vulnerable private areas...

Soon, she was dressed, and he walked her back to the bed and helped her lie down. She snuggled into the pillows, not even bothering with the covers, and he couldn't resist pulling the covers up and tucking them around her. It was the least he could do, after...

He closed his eyes and turned away slightly. Her expression was so content, so at peace...if only he could find such peace and contentment.

"Oratt?"

He opened his eyes and gazed somberly down at her. Those deep blue eyes were clouded with exhaustion, but not with hatred or disgust or anger or fear...the thought still awed him, thrilled him...

"Thank you for looking after me," she whispered, carefully taking his hand. He resisted the overwhelming urge to squeeze it, to send an electric surge along her nerves and explore the results...would she like that? Would it hurt her?

"You're sweet, honey bun," she continued, using his hand as an anchor as she pulled herself up. She tugged down, indicating that she wanted him to sit. He wanted to run away and go back to his room, lock the door and never look her in the eye again. He wanted to rip off the clothes she had just put on and show her how grateful he was that she didn't hate him, that she wasn't cringing away from his touch. He wanted to burst into tears and beg her forgiveness.

He decided to sit, and he tried his hardest to maintain his composure...though he could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes...

She leaned forward, reaching out to cup his cheek, and she kissed him. Her kiss was soft and sweet, gentle, compassionate...she lightly brushed her lips against his, then pulled him in for something deeper. She pulled away and stared at him, her eyes shining with compassion.

"Don't be ashamed of what you did, Oratt," she whispered. "Never be ashamed of that. You're alive, and I'm alive, and we're both going to be ok. So do me a favor...let go of the guilt, ok?"

He closed his eyes. "I will...attempt to do as you say, Ms. Beaumont. Now please...rest. We'll arrive on Vulcan in two days...that should give you time to recover...your injuries..."

He stopped and leaped to his feet, grabbing his PADD as he made for the door. But he stopped and turned around to face her, and he couldn't stand that hurt look on her face...

"If you need anything..."

The hopeful look in her eyes died, and she nodded soberly, lying back down and covering her head with the covers. He breathed in slowly as to not let the tears stream down his cheeks, and he left her to sleep in peace.


	4. Emptiness

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt and Gelnon and Yuris), 09sasha, jackiemack916 and the anon reviewer for reviewing! You guys are all awesome!**_

_**A/N: Dreams (the italicized section below) are kind of steamy, kind of M-ish. Don't like, don't read.**_

_**Also, angst meter on 10. Don't get your panties into a wad, ok?**_

_Warm, bubbling water swirling around her lower body. A hard bench to hold her up. A hard wall to cradle her. Waves washing over her, back and forth, lulling, returning, retreating. A hot ocean._

_Her hand caressing the inside of her thigh. Her fingers trailing up toward the apex, her womanhood, skimming over ivory skin. Softness. Fingernails contemplating her creamy flesh._

_Deliberation. A decision. A gasp. A moan._

_Half-realized dreams rising before her eyes. Another gasp. Memories swirling around at the forefront of her brain. The heat. The hunger. His teeth, his warmth, his length, his stamina. Insatiable. Her cries, her moans, her desire fulfilled in every way she could imagine. Insatiable._

_Memories. Daydreams. A thought. A hope._

_A summons..._

_A warm hand hesitantly touching her shoulder. A moan, leaning into his touch. Fingers delving further, eliciting a soft cry. A knee pressed gently into her back, urging her to move forward on the bench. Obedience._

_A hot chest pressing into her back. Warm thighs encompassing hers. A warm hand slipping under the water, taking her hand and moving it away. A hand returning to take over her fingers' lascivious dance. His hand, his fingers._

_Soft, supple lips tracing the line of her neck, sliding over old scars, familiar crevices to her visitor. A dance intensifying. A moan. A gasp, then another. Her body melting back into his._

_Her back pressed hard against the wall. Warm thighs blocking her in, heating her core. A tingling sensation racing down her spine. A warm, wet tongue lightly tracing the outer shell of her ear. Teeth nibbling on her earlobe. Fingers jumping back into the dance. His fingers._

_A dance ending. A stronger dance beginning. A desperate cry. A whimper. A growl._

_Teeth plunging into her flesh. Familiar pain. Familiar pleasure. Desire racing through her core, fire splitting her in two. A rush of blood, to her apex, to her cheeks. Warm hands, no longer hesitant, roaming freely over her. Digging into her waist. Gripping her thighs with ardor. Familiar ardor._

_A desperate cry, silenced with a greedy kiss. A growl muffled by sweat-pricked flesh. Desire for completion gripping her being. Desire for more tickling the back of her mind, tantalizing her senses._

_An inhale of musky scent. A taste of firm flesh. Cool, coppery blood gushing into her mouth. A swallow. A growl near her ear. Hot breath on her neck. A plea pouring from her lips, a plea for him to continue. For him to never stop._

_Release. Bliss. The heights of ecstasy made manifest in the joining of flesh. Warmth spilling into the bubbling water. Warmth gushing into the steaming, hot ocean._

_Withdrawal and coolness whispering over her flesh. Sweat cooling as they recover. A kiss, this one sweeter, longer, brimming with gratitude and affection. A lover's kiss._

_A kiss in return, one of hunger and desperation, of loneliness and longing. Fiery depths of solitude rising and begging for a companion. A plea for the missing half of one's soul._

_She cannot tell who gave which kiss. They both did. They never did. They were always locked in that kiss. She cannot tell._

_A whisper in her ear. Familiar words, ancient words. Understanding yet not understanding. An alien language._

_A reply from the depths of her very soul. Not knowing how she knows it. An alien tongue pouring forth from her trembling lips._

_A promise. _

_Satiated yet hungry. Satisfied yet yearning for so much more._

_One last kiss, and a whispered farewell. Limbs growing heavy, and the sensation of awakening..._

Desiree gasped as she opened her eyes, and she laid there for several seconds, the apex of her thighs throbbing in want, her heart pounding, her body ready for a lover who was not there. A few tears streamed down her cheeks, but she dashed them away and looked over to her clock. _0400_. She sat up and cast off the covers from her sweat-drenched body and padded over to the bathroom, ignoring the cold carpet beneath her feet and the chilly air permeating the room. She opted for water and turned it up as hot as she could stand, then got in and closed the shower door.

As her hair slowly became saturated with water, she leaned her forehead against the cold tile and let the tears flow. _Damn it all to hell_, she thought to herself. She actually missedthe Vulcan! The cantankerous, grouchy old git had gotten under her skin, and she _missed _him! And to make things worse, she had been having these dreams for the last month, ever since she had gotten on the transport to come back to Earth. Almost every night, he haunted her, coming to her, touching her, biting her, whispering those words..._those words_...

Why did those words sound so familiar, and yet so foreign? It was if her tongue had known how to say them from the moment it was formed in her mouth, as if she had said them a thousand times before. Those words..._parted and never parted_...

As soon as the words popped into her head, they were gone, and she stiffened her upper lip and tried to regain some composure. Oratt didn't want anything to do with her, so she shouldn't be here crying over him. Seriously, why was she upset over being rejected by a cranky old doctor? What was wrong with her?

She quickly lathered her hair and rinsed, then turned her attention to her legs, shaving off the stumble that relentlessly returned every few days. She didn't have class to teach today, so she was free to do whatever. And that was precisely the problem. She had nothing to do and all day to do it. She hardly went out anymore, seemingly having descended into a serious case of the blahs, and she was always tired. She suspected that she might be sinking into a depression, and her emotions were becoming strangely erratic. It wasn't just that, she felt like she was slowly going crazy. Random flashes of insight or emotion would pop into her head at the oddest times; just the other day, she was washing dishes in her tiny sink, and a sudden burst of anger that had nothing to do with what she was thinking overwhelmed her for a moment, then was gone. Last week, she had been listening to some music and grading papers, and a random burst of self-loathing and guilt filled her mind. Maybe sleeping with Vulcans caused insanity. Maybe she was incredibly lonely and desperate, and seriously needed to get out.

Funny, the last time she had felt this bad, it had led to a career change, years of debt, and a completely new outlook on life, but none of them were that pleasant...

_She could still smell the dusty theater, still hear the roar of the crowd, still see the other actors move through their performances with her, their dialogue flawless, their voices joined as one...the audience going wild...the cool stem of a rose tossed her way...and looking into the eyes of the man who tossed it...Ethan Lockheart..._

She dashed away her tears and turned off the shower unit, then toweled off and went straight back to bed. She had so little energy...she slept several hours more than usual, and she was starting to worry that something was physically wrong with her. Desiree cooked for herself often, and she was grateful she didn't have a roommate at the moment so she didn't have to smell their food too. Sometimes, when walking down the street and inhaling the aroma of cooking food in a restaurant, she would be overcome with nausea enough to make her want to vomit. And she was going to the bathroom several more times a day than usual...

Desiree sighed and made an appointment with her primary care physician for the next day, hoping these symptoms would go away. She snuggled deeper into the pillow, letting a few more tears streak down her cheeks, but the release did little to make the emotional and physical misery subside.

…

A month had gone by, and Oratt was miserable.

He thought he was above such petty emotions as loneliness and guilt and self-hatred, but it wasn't until he had to compartmentalize them almost every night in meditation that he realized they had been constant companions for a long time, before he had met Desiree, before the night he...

He refused to let his thoughts dwell on her again. Usually, he found playing the Vulcan lyre relaxing, pleasant...but the notes that came out of the instrument sounded mournful to his ears, like the wailing of a long lost soul...

He sighed and set aside his lyre, lying back on his couch and letting his mind drift into a meditative state. A month of erotic, tantalizing dreams was not helping his mental state, and his constant efforts to put Desiree Beaumont out of his mind failed every time. He managed to put on a brave face for work and did not allow his efforts there to slip, but the minute he was alone, her face drifted to the forefront of his mind, and the sight made a sharp pang tear through him.

The rest of the day was spent trying to cast her from his thoughts, but she would not depart. Frustrated and feeling lonelier and guiltier than ever, he finally laid down to sleep and closed his eyes, hoping the new day would bring him a solution. For a moment, the world and its problems seemed to drift away, and he felt a tiny twinge of rare contentment as darkness consumed his vision.

_Mist rising before his eyes as his feet pad over wooden planks. A steaming tub of water. An occupant._

_A familiar presence. _

_A moan cutting through the soft silence. Approaching the tub, casting away the towel on the lower half of his body. A tentative hand on her shoulder. Her golden head leaning into him, an invitation to join her. A soft cry as she rears back her head, in the throes of self-pleasure. Desire to be the one to give her the pleasure she needs._

_A knee gently prodding her forward on the bench. Obedience._

_Her warm body nestled against his. Water flowing around his lower half, hot, seething, bubbling, like the blood boiling in his veins. _

_Fingers finding a different kind of moisture. Her moan of ecstasy, a plea for him to continue._

_Moving to face her, pressing her against the wall of the tub. His fingers continuing their dance. Her face transformed into an expression of heavenly bliss._

_Deliberation. A decision. A cry in the dark._

_Rocking back and forth, her pleas ringing in his ears. Sinking his teeth into her flesh. Feeling her teeth pierce his. Hearing her moan. Hearing her beg for this to go on forever._

_Release. Bliss. The heights of ecstasy made manifest in the joining of flesh. Warmth spilling into the bubbling water. Warmth gushing into the steaming, hot ocean._

_Whispering in her ear. Familiar words, ancient words. An ancient claim._

_A reply from her trembling lips. Satisfaction from the depths of his soul that she knows the words. Ancient possession beating incessantly in his blood._

_A promise. _

_Satiated yet hungry. Satisfied yet yearning for so much more._

_Kissing her sweet, soft lips, and a whispered farewell. The sensation of returning to consciousness..._

Oratt awoke with a soft intake of breath, and his internal chronometer told him that it was 0400 hours. The dream had left him burning inside, and his fingertips were tingling...it was a maddening sensation, and as he panted there alone in the dark, he briefly wondered if he truly was going crazy. Erratic emotions were plaguing him, often at the oddest of times, and he questioned whether Desiree had healed the fever or had simply delayed it. If he had to go through that again, so soon...he was tempted to choose death. Suddenly, his life seemed rather pointless, and although he had his work to keep him busy, and although his clan mother had received no explanation as to who had helped him through the fever, but was currently searching for a mate for him...it was tempting now to end his life. He realized now how incredibly lonely he was, how he had always been lonely.

_His former mate, T'Resh, and her son, Oramik...not his son, another man's child...endless meditation and her departure with her child...Mount Selaya...more meditation and some healing, but not enough...enough to make him stable, but not enough to make him whole...throwing himself back into work, rising in the ranks...years of sleeping alone, eating alone, being alone..._

He held in the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as those painful memories surfaced, and he shoved them back down relentlessly, compartmentalizing the emotions and slipping out of bed for another heavy session of meditation.

The worst part was that, for the first time in years, he had felt the beginnings of wholeness when Desiree had helped him and come out of the fires alive and not angry...he had never felt anger or disgust or fear from her...only desire, and the beginnings of affection...

But he knew that he was not the right man for her. He was old, she was young. He was cantankerous and disagreeable, even in the eyes of his own people, and to think that a beautiful young human woman would ever want to spend time with him...the thought was ludicrous. And besides, just because she survived one fever didn't mean she would survive countless others that he would have to endure...she would be in danger, he could kill her...she probably hated him right now for what he did...

_No_, the dark voice inside his head whispered. _She is not angry, Oratt. She was never angry. She is lonely, just like you...she has been lonely for four years..._

That means nothing, he protested. A woman with her aesthetic appeal should be able to find a mate with ease.

_There is more to a mate than physical appeal. There has to be mutual trust, a deeper connection than carnal pleasures...shared interests are helpful, as are shared values and each partner supporting the other's goal in life...she may have tried to build relationships on intimacy and physical pleasure alone...and eventually those bonds turn empty, as you well know..._

Stop it, he growled to the voice, turning his mind back to meditation. She would never accept him, and it was best to cast her from his thoughts and move on with his life.

Yet still, the emptiness gnawed at him, an ugly void that would not be closed, and no matter how hard he tried, the thought of Desiree Beaumont seemed permanently lodged in his brain.


	5. Breaking News

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt, Gelnon, and Strom), maba7x and 09sasha for reviewing! You all are amazing! I'm still amazed that this story is getting support!**_

Desiree waited in the cold examination room, her hands folded tightly between her legs. Her hair was lank and damp in her face, as she had washed it again this morning. Another erotic dream had tempted her last night, but when she woke up and tried to eat breakfast, she had to run to the bathroom. She had collapsed in front of the toilet and emptied the contents of her stomach into it, and ten minutes later, she had gotten up, washed out her mouth and waited, thinking she had caught the flu or something like that. But other than feeling very tired (her stomach and throat were rather sore), she felt all right, back to normal. She had tossed the rest of her breakfast, her appetite suddenly gone (surprise surprise), and she had gotten started on grading papers, watching the clock so she wouldn't be late for her doctor's appointment.

Dr. Verkowski was a balding man, nearly fifty, with large hazel eyes and a bulbous nose. He had an endearing personality, and Desiree had always suspected he had the slightest crush on her. He was an eager man, always smiling and happy, even when delivering sad news. He always tried to make things out to be positive, and Desiree was in love with his attitude from the moment she had come in for her first check-up.

Verkowski slipped into the room, a mischievous grin on his face, and he handed her a PADD.

"Well, Ms. Beaumont, I would have never thought this was possible." His voice was pulsating with excitement, and Desiree frowned at him. Did she have some alien flu or something that wasn't supposed to affect humans?

"It's really quite remarkable, a miracle of science really! And the social implications this will have! The High Command has been somewhat...reluctant to let the Vulcans stationed here explore relations with us humans, but you seem to have broken the rules! You're a rebel, Ms. Beaumont, I congratulate you! Really, after one hundred years of this alliance, you would think that _certainly _something like this would happen. I think we're witnessing the start of a new era, a closer, more intimate friendship with our Vulcan brothers! Wouldn't you say, Ms. Beaumont?"

Desiree was utterly dumbfounded. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Verkowski let out a nervous laugh. "I thought it would be obvious. What you've done isn't exactly something one just forgets...did you?" He blushed suddenly, and Desiree's frown deepened. She stared at him, nonplussed.

"You're going to be a mother, Ms. Beaumont!" Verkowski finally said, a wide grin dawning on his face. "Congratulations!"

Desiree could not think for several minutes. It was as if the sound in the room had suddenly been turned down. She could see Verkowski's lips moving as he went on and on in some excited spiel, but she looked down at her stomach and placed a careful hand over it. She was pregnant...and unless the angel Gabriel had given her the news while she was out cold, there was only one man she knew who could possibly be the father.

"Ms. Beaumont?"

She looked up and stared into the doctor's hazel eyes. "How is that possible?"

He shrugged. "I'll be sending a notice to Starfleet Medical, and I'm sure they can give you more answers than I can. No matter how it happened, you are pregnant with the first hybrid child in human history!"

He was beaming, but tears pricked her eyes, and his face fell, which only made her burst into tears.

"Ms. Beaumont?" he said, rushing up to her and gently touching her shoulder. It was a minute before he spoke again.

"This was...consensual, correct? You weren't forced or anything?"

"No," she gasped. "No...I...I'm just scared is all...it's a lot to swallow..." She burst into tears again and clutched her stomach, as if she could feel through the layers of fat and tissue and muscle to touch the tiny spark of life growing within her. How could this have happened? Pregnancy was the last thing on her mind when Oratt had...captured her, but now, according to this doctor, she was with his child. There was no other explanation. She was pregnant with Oratt's child.

"Who is the father, if I may ask?"

She snorted. "You in the Inter-species Medical Exchange?"

He nodded. "Are you familiar with the Vulcan doctors in it?"

Verkowski seemed to swell with pride. "I try my hardest to strengthen the ties between Vulcan and Earth, and I make it a point to meet every Vulcan doctor who-"

She snorted, cutting him off. "Then if you know him, you wouldn't believe me."

Verkowski frowned. "Is it that Tumek fellow, perhaps?"

Desiree laughed mirthlessly. "Never heard of him...it's Dr. Oratt."

Her doctor stood there in silence for a minute, then sighed. "Well, I..."

"Trust me, I was just as shocked as you. Not someone you'd think would go after...yeah..."

Verkowski shook his head and turned her attention to the PADD. "The baby is growing steadily, and as far as I can tell, it's healthy. You're about a month along now, and I'm glad we caught this early so we can fend off any potential problems...you are planning on carrying the baby to term, aren't you?"

She frowned up at him. "Of course! Just because his father's Vulcan doesn't mean it's not a baby. I'll carry the kid, don't worry."

Desiree sighed and looked back down at her stomach, and although tears were still coursing down her cheeks, she managed to smile. "It'll look just like his daddy...oh, I hope it gets pointed ears..."

"You find them attractive?"

She glared at him. "Don't you? I think they're adorable, personally."

Verkowski laughed. "Yes, they are quite something. Well, Ms. Beaumont, I'm...not quite sure how you should proceed...Dr. Oratt should be informed, though. This _is _his child as well, you know. I could...call the embassy and get his contact information for you, if you like."

More tears coursed down her cheeks, and she swallowed nervously, her stomach clenching in anxiety. "Yeah, I suppose he should be told...Thanks, doc, but I'll take care of it myself."

"I'll arrange an appointment with Starfleet Medical as soon as possible. We'll be in touch, Ms. Beaumont."

Verkowski paused. "If there's anything I can do for you..."

She offered him a watery smile. "I'll ask. Thank you, doctor, I appreciate that."

…

"That information is classified."

The middle-aged Vulcan woman at the front desk of the embassy was imposing, with cold eyes and a slightly hooked nose, making her look like a hawk. It was also didn't help matters that the front desk was raised slightly above the floor, so the lady could look down on everyone who came inside the lobby. Desiree sighed and tried to hold back the tears of frustration that were building behind her eyes.

"I'm telling you, it's _very _important that I get Dr. Oratt's contact information. I need to talk to him as soon as possible."

"For what purpose?"

Desiree buried her head in her hands. "For the last time, ma'am, I'd rather not say, because it's none of your business."

"As I have stated, I cannot hand out that information without good reason, and in any case, as I have also stated, that information is classified."

"T'Zahl, what is going on here?"

Desiree turned and looked in the direction of the masculine voice, and she saw a slender Vulcan man coming toward her. T'Zahl, as she was named, straightened and bowed her head in respect, and Desiree bowed her head slightly as well, knowing that whoever had sway over this insufferable woman was worth sucking up to at the very least.

The man was getting on in years, perhaps late middle-age by Vulcan standards, perhaps Soval's age, if the ambassador's appearances before Earth news sources were any indicator of his age. Soval, nor any Vulcan for that matter, didn't seem the type to hide their age. The newcomer had graying hair, still dark, like aged silver, but his demeanor oozed wisdom and kindness. Desiree was reminded immediately of her grandfather, and the thought made her want to cry even more.

"What has caused this young woman distress?" the man asked T'Zahl.

"I do not know, Osu. She is human. I cannot speak for their erratic emotions."

Desiree was tempted to glare at the woman and show her just how erratic her emotions could get, but the man told the secretary something in Vulcan, his voice harsh and cold. The woman dipped her head immediately, looking contrite, and the man turned to Desiree.

"May I speak to you in my office, ma'am?"

Desiree nodded, thinking that this man was most likely on her side, and she followed him down a quiet hallway to a stairwell. After climbing up five flights, Desiree was winded, partially due to her new condition, and partially due to her reluctance to get out and exercise, as she had been feeling so depressed lately. The man turned to her once they reached his office, and she couldn't help but notice that they were near an ornate set of wooden double doors, but before she could ponder what was beyond it, he ushered into his office.

"Would you like some tea, ma'am?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man leaned forward across the desk, then stood and held out his hand in greeting. "Forgive my lack of manners, ma'am. My name is Sorak. And you are?"

"Desiree Beaumont," she replied with a wider smile, taking his hand and giving him a firm handshake. She had never seen a Vulcan offer the gesture before, and she was touched.

"Ms. Beaumont, may I ask why you require Dr. Oratt's contact information?"

She sighed and laid her hand automatically over her stomach, and Sorak's eyes drifted downward, following her movement. For the second time that day, she felt tears prick her eyes, and she stared down at her lap and tried to wipe them away, but Sorak got up from his chair, came around the desk and knelt before her.

"T'Sai, what is the matter?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. "I need his contact information...because I'm pregnant with his child."

Sorak fell back onto his heels and stared at her with a bemused expression. "How is that possible?" he whispered.

She shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

He frowned. "But you...copulated with him?"

Desiree laughed. "That's how babies are made, isn't it?"

He offered her a tiny smile, perhaps in appreciation of her humor, but then his expression turned serious. "If you don't mind me asking, what were the circumstances behind this?"

She frowned. "I got the impression that you don't talk about it. Considering his reaction, anyway..."

Sorak's eyes flooded with comprehension. "You helped him."

Desiree paused, then nodded. "He said his life was at stake."

"It certainly was," he said solemnly. He stared intently at her for a good minute, as if searching her soul. She was starting to feel uncomfortable when he stood and looked down at her with an approving gaze.

"Desiree Beaumont, you are one of the bravest human women I have ever met."

She sat in shock for a minute, her cheeks growing warm, and she looked away. "You know, that's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Sorak tilted his head, and when she looked back at him, she could have sworn she saw pity resting in his eyes. But the expression cleared and he sat back down behind his desk, working at a console.

"This is Sorak. Get me Communications, Vulcan Directory."

Someone on the other end offered an affirmative, and Sorak scanned the screen, then tapped a button and waited. Desiree's heart started pounding furiously; she had no idea that Sorak had enough authority to have her talk to Oratt directly here and now.

"Yes, is Dr. Oratt in?"

"_I can transfer you to his office. He should be in._"

She felt like her heart would pound out of her chest, and soon Sorak raised a salute to the screen, presumably to Dr. Oratt.

"Greetings, doctor. I have a young woman here who needs to speak to you."

Desiree breathed in slowly as Sorak turned the console to her, and she frowned immediately at the weary expression on Oratt's face.

"You ok, doctor?" She couldn't think of anything else to say. But despite her nervousness, a strange sense of relief washed over her at the sight of his face.

"_I am...adequate. And you, Ms. Beaumont? Is there a problem?_"

She paused. "Well...some people might think of it that way. I just..._really _need to talk to you. And I don't think this is a conversation we need to have over subspace."

He frowned, and Sorak raised an eyebrow before lowering his eyes to a PADD in his hand. "_Ms. __Beaumont, are you all right? You look tired._"

"I am tired," she conceded. "And I need to talk to you. If you could...tell me a place to meet you on Vulcan or something, I'll jump on the next transport and-"

"_I would not want you to go through all that trouble. I will come to you._" He paused, and Desiree felt that strange flash of guilt. And she could see it in his eyes. She squirmed, and her heart skipped a beat. What in the world?

"_You are sure you're well? You are not ill, or...injured?_" She could feel it again, a crackle of guilt, and she frowned at him.

"It's ok, goober, I'm ok...I'm going to be ok..." Her eyes filled with tears again, but she blinked them back and offered him a smile. "You know...I've missed you, honey bun."

She watched as Oratt's eyes widened, and she giggled. He obviously did not think that a month after their encounter that she would admit to missing him, or be calling him terms of endearment.

"So when can I expect you here? I'm...really looking forward to seeing you again."

Oratt swallowed and closed his eyes briefly. "_I will take a leave of absence, and I will be there in five days time._"

"You need my address?"

The tips of his ears turned green, and she giggled again. "_That would be the easiest way to find you_."

"Give me your messaging address and I'll send it to you. Along with my schedule, so you can show up at my house when I'm actually there. But I've got plenty of vacation time stored up...I think I'm going to take it. Just a few weeks after you get here. We have a lot to talk about."

His eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions, but they cleared and he nodded resolutely. He tapped a few buttons on his desk. "_I have sent the information to the ambassador's aide. Until my arrival, Ms. Beaumont...I...eagerly anticipate seeing you again._"

"Call me Desiree, Oratt," she said softly, shoving her hair out of her face. "For heaven's sake, call me Desiree."

Sorak's eyebrow flicked upward, but Oratt seemed...she couldn't read his expression. "_Desiree...I will see you in five days._"

She smiled. "I look forward to it."

The screen went dark, and she leaned back into her chair. "Well...that went better than I thought it would."

"He is obviously quite eager to see you again."

She frowned. "Yeah, I was worried he might not want anything to do with me. The way he ran out..."

She stopped lest she choke on her words, and she breathed in, trying to calm herself.

"I find the thought of him not wanting anything to do with you highly implausible. You did not tell him of your condition, else he would have demanded passage on a Vulcan ship and would be here the day after tomorrow. As it is, you admitted that you miss him, that you want to see him again...and that is reason enough to get here as fast as he is able, without abusing his position."

She frowned. "His position?"

"He is a ranking member of the Council of Physicians, and holds much sway over the medical community on Vulcan. He is one of our most celebrated doctors, and he is the head of the Vulcan contingent in the Inter-species Medical Exchange. You helped a powerful man, Ms. Beaumont, and although not many of my people claim a...fondness for Oratt, his services are highly valued."

She stared at him for a long time. "Well that's just lovely."

Sorak frowned. "You disapprove?"

"I'm...trying to take all of this in. My life is going in this direction that I would have _never _imagined in my life. I mean...here I am, pregnant with a hybrid baby...I get the impression that I'll be the object of a powerful man's affections pretty soon...and weirdly enough...things are looking _up _for once."

Sorak sighed. "Yours has not been an easy life?"

She snorted. "Is life ever easy? Even if you have all the riches in the world, a million friends and all that jazz, life will get hard at some point along the way...mine got hard early and fast. But finally, it's like things are getting better."

Sorak offered her a tiny smile, but he turned and stood when the door opened. Desiree got to her feet as well as Ambassador Soval walked in the office, and he looked at her with confusion.

"Sorak, what is going on here? Who is this?"

"Osu, this is Desiree Beaumont. She needed to talk to Dr. Oratt."

Soval frowned. "For what purpose?"

Sorak looked to Desiree, as if asking for her permission, and she threw up her hands. "He's the ambassador to this planet. Might as well tell him."

Sorak turned to Soval and straightened. "She is carrying Oratt's child, Osu. She helped him...through his Time," he added in a quieter tone.

Soval stiffened and his nostrils flared, and he looked at Desiree as if she were growing tentacles out of her ears. "We appreciate your service, T'Sai...you have informed him of this...development?"

"Not yet," she answered with a sigh. "Can I sit back down, please?"

Soval nodded immediately, continuing to stare at her as if she were the most fascinating and confusing thing in the world. His eyes seemed to soften a little, and it suddenly struck her that she was face to face with Soval, Vulcan ambassador to Earth. Very important person. And he came and knelt before her as Sorak had done.

"You are...very brave, T'Sai."

"If I may ask, what does that mean?"

"In your language," Sorak replied, "it means 'lady'. You are worthy of the title."

She raised her eyebrows. "Um, you realize I'm a _theater instructor _at my local _community college_? Not exactly living in the lap of luxury over here."

Sorak shook his head. "Social status has nothing to do with this. You have earned the respect that comes with the title T'Sai by your actions. From my conversation with you, I believe you to be more worthy than most women who bear the title by birth."

She blushed furiously and touched her stomach.

"Have you been to the doctor?" Soval asked gently. She nodded.

"Just got the news this morning." She couldn't help but laugh a little at the memory of Verkowski and his boyish eagerness. "My primary care physician acted like Christmas had come early this year or something. He was really excited..." She shook her head and leaned back in the chair. "So what happens now?"

Sorak raised an eyebrow. "You carry the child," he said simply. "And then you raise your child. And if my judgment is correct, you will have the child's father there to help you."

She smiled at him. "You make it sound so simple...that makes me feel better."

She saw what she never thought she would see in her life: Soval offered her a tiny smile. "You are making history, T'Sai...however, you are not the first woman on Earth to...get personal with a Vulcan male. There are a few women I believe you should meet."

Sorak nodded. "I will put them in contact with you in due course. Has Starfleet Medical been informed?"

"Dr. Verkowski, my doctor, said he'd contact them and he'd set up an appointment with them as soon as possible."

"Good," Sorak said. "Now, unless there is something else we need to discuss? You look very tired, T'Sai, and you need to rest. Do you require an escort back home?"

"No," she said with a smile. "I'll be all right."

She smiled at Soval. "A pleasure to meet you, ambassador," she nodded to Sorak, "sir."

The two Vulcans bowed their heads slightly in return, and Sorak walked her to the door of the embassy.

"Now I've got to call my Mom," Desiree sighed. "That's the hard part."

His eyes darkened, but she held up a hand. "Your secret is safe with me. I'm an adult, and she can't force details out of me. But I did have good reasons for doing what I did, and she'll just have to accept that."

"How do you think she will respond to the news?"

"She'll be ecstatic that she's getting a grandbaby. I'm not sure how she'll take the Vulcan part, though. We'll see."

"We will be in touch, Ms. Beaumont. I will forward Oratt's information to you."

She nodded. "Thank you, sir...you are an angel for what you did for me."

He smiled wryly. "Simply trying to do what is right. Good day, T'Sai."


	6. Roommates

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon, Clutzrox, 09sasha, maba7x, makaem, dinopoodle, BelladonnasMom, Your Conscience, delightfully-so, and the anon reviewer for your reviews. Holy guacamole, that's a ton of reviews! You are all spectacular, splendid, exquisite! Thanks so much for the support!**_

Desiree was tired and cranky and had thrown up the morning of her appointment with Starfleet Medical, but she got up and went anyway, not wanting to let Sorak down, who had managed to contact Verkowski and set up a good time for her to go that didn't conflict with work. Really, at this point, she was going for Sorak, because the man was worth it. Like her grandfather was worth it...like Oratt might be worth it, if she decided to let him into her heart...

She sighed and waited in the lobby, grading some papers and planning her next week's schedule to pass the time. A younger woman, perhaps 20, sat down beside her. The newcomer had long dark brown hair and lively hazel eyes, and she looked slightly Latino in origin. Desiree put down her PADD and looked up at the girl, who smiled at her.

"Are you Desiree Beaumont?" she whispered. She nodded. The woman's face lit up.

"Hi, I'm Lucy Hardister. I'm working here as an intern, and I just wanted to welcome you to Starfleet Medical!"

"Thank you!" Desiree said, Lucy's cheerful nature rubbing off on her, like Verkowski's always did. "I don't suppose you know Dr. Verkowski?"

Lucy nodded. "He's my boss. Cheerful bloke, isn't he?"

"Very," she agreed, putting away her PADD. "So where are you from?"

"Denver. Boulder really, but Denver if you must."

Desiree smiled. "My family lives in Chicago now, but I spent some time in New York. Now I live near Berkeley."

"Where exactly? I live near there."

Desiree looked up, frowning in concentration. "It's about...five miles outside San Fran. What about you?"

"A little more like six miles. I live closer to Berkeley."

She nodded. "Yeah, I need to find a roommate, actually. Mine moved out last week to go to Minnesota for a new teaching job."

Lucy grinned. "You know...it'd be nice to share the rent...I mean, I hardly know you, but...consider me?"

Desiree returned the grin. "Sure! If I don't get any more offers, I'll call you up! Most likely no one will reply to this, but hey...what are you studying here?"

"I'm at Berkeley College. I'm studying xenobiology, with an emphasis on Vulcan physiology."

"Cool!" Desiree said. "I teach at West Central Community College. It's closer to San Fran. So...you and I would be good together...you'd be right in the middle of your two destinations, right?"

"Totally!" she said, her voice pulsating with excitement. "I'm tired of living alone! Here..." she got out her PADD and they exchanged contact information. "If I'm not mistaken, your appointment should be soon. Dr. Verkowski had to run to prepare for it."

"Lucy, if you'll be rooming with me...you know, screw it. You're my new roommate! I could use someone studying xenobiology close by...Lucy...you ok with Vulcans?"

She grinned widely. "I'm studying them." She blushed slightly. "I'm in love with one."

Desiree turned to her. "Really? Do tell, mon cherie!"

Lucy laughed and pulled her PADD back out, then flipped to a standard profile page. "This is him."

She took it from the Latina and looked over the picture, and she recognized his face. "Hang on, I've met him! Dr. Strom, right?"

Lucy turned to her immediately. "You met him? When?"

"About a month or so ago! He was on the transport to Vulcan with me! Yeah...he _didn't _come knocking on my door at 2200 hours to complain about me singing softly to myself and minding my own business..."

"And someone else did? Who?"

Desiree sighed, smiling slightly at the memory. She turned to Lucy. "Honey...if you're in love with this Vulcan...there are things you should know. Dr. Oratt...wasn't in his right mind."

Her smile widened. "I know about that...seven-year-itch," she breathed. "Been there...but haven't had a chance to do that." She nodded to the picture of Strom and sighed. Desiree couldn't help but giggle, and Lucy looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Is it really as bad as they say it is?" she whispered, and Desiree shook her head, her laughter bubbling up to the surface, and it could not be contained.

"Best...Sex...Ever!" she breathed in between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. "Why the frig am I laughing?"

"Did you say _Dr. Oratt_?" Lucy said as she gasped for air.

"Yes," Desiree chuckled, trying to breathe in deeply. "Why, you know him?"

"Brown eyes, gray hair...unpleasant sort of fellow?"

"Yup, that's my honey bun."

Lucy burst out laughing again, and Desiree couldn't help but follow. "Wow...how did _you _end up with _him_?"

"I'll..." She breathed in deeply and tried to control herself. "I'll tell you later," she whispered.

At that moment, a Vulcan doctor approached them, and Desiree could not help but to fall back into another fit of the giggles, and Lucy fell too. After a minute, they controlled themselves, and the Vulcan man simply quirked his eyebrow, and Desiree stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"This way, Ms. Beaumont," he said in a flat, dry monotone. She nodded and held her hand out to Lucy.

"You too, lover girl," she murmured, and Lucy looked like she might have squealed in excitement.

"Sure thing, woman!"

They giggled again as the Vulcan stared at them in bemusement, but they calmed down when they walked into the examination room together.

Verkowski was there to meet Desiree, and he smiled at the two of them. "Ms. Hardister! I see you've met our star patient?"

Lucy smiled slightly. "Yeah, she and I will room together."

"Excellent! Really, having such an eager young woman as yourself near Ms. Beaumont as this time is sure to do her good! I say, I should have suggested it in the first place! Truly..."

He droned on for a minute, but Lucy turned to Desiree and raised her eyebrows, and Desiree was hard pressed to suppress a grin.

"Well then, Ms. Beaumont, have a seat and let's begin!"

…

"Wow," Lucy murmured for the hundredth time. "Just..._wow_...oh," she whimpered. "Now _I _want to try with a certain special someone...you're so lucky, you know that?"

Desiree sighed. "As far as I know, I'm pregnant with a child who's father may not even want anything to do with me. How am I lucky?"

Lucy frowned and held her back from crossing the street as the crossing light turned to red. "You're carrying his kid. If I learned anything about Vulcans...you do it with them, most will get the impression that you're theirs. Have a kid by them...and you're _undeniably _theirs."

Desiree frowned in return and put a hand over her stomach. "What are you saying, Lucy?"

"I'm saying that he's probably going to try to win you over. You helped him...and now you're pregnant with his kid. That's a total gamechanger for them. Were you...enthusiastic during the fever?"

"Tried to be. He thought I'd die by the night's end...I showed him..."

"No wonder he hopped on the first transport. He's got an enthusiastic and beautiful woman to woo."

Desiree snorted. "Well, we'll see how he takes this news, and then we'll see."

The light turned green, and they crossed the street together and turned down a side alley to get to Desiree's apartment.

"Mm-hm, we'll see," said Lucy with a naughty grin, and she burst out laughing. Desiree frowned in confusion.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You said he ran, right?"

"Yeah," she said despondently. "Right after I kissed him and said it was all ok."

Lucy laughed harder. "Typical Vulcan! Typical Vulcan male! He ran because he couldn't believe you would be so forgiving, honey! He thinks its the end of the world, and you forgive him in a heartbeat, and kiss him, and let him touch you. No wonder...that's their go-to move. I saw it in Strom...fight it, ignore it, hope it will go away, run away if you can...and then surrender. He'll come crawling back to you and beg to be yours, mark my words!" She giggled again. "So hello, Mrs. Oratt!"

Desiree elbowed her in the ribs, and Lucy yelped in protest. "What? It's true!"

She couldn't help but smile as she opened the door.

…

The week flew by, and soon Desiree was looking at the day Oratt was due to arrive. Lucy had moved in the day before and had left to go to class and work this morning, and Desiree had put in for her vacation. She had two weeks off, and she was trying her hardest to relax.

It was late afternoon, and she was just about to go lay down for a nap when she heard the doorbell ring. She breathed in a sharp breath and leaped off the couch, smoothing her shirt and checking herself in the mirror. Once she thought she looked presentable (she looked tired and stressed out), she ran to the door and opened it.

She stared at him for several seconds, then pinched her thigh to make sure this wasn't a dream. She had had a few dreams that started like this...

His brown eyes were somber and contrite, and fearful and hopeful and awed. _How can I read him so well? _His gray hair wasn't as neat and tidy as the first time she had seen him, but she could blame that on the wind that had picked up in the night and still blew all through the day. He looked rumpled and most definitely not prim or proper (_he looks good when he's all ruffled up like that, _she thought to herself), and he bowed his head in greeting.

"Ms. Beaumont," Oratt said, and she smiled at the slight lofty accent he had, certainly less thick than when they first met. "May I...come in?"

She stepped aside and ushered him inside, then snapped the door shut. He stared at her expectantly, but she felt pressure in her abdomen and frowned.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

He raised his eyebrows and his eyes filled with worry, but he sat down, and she ran to the bathroom.

…

By the time she returned, he was pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor, and when he saw her, he slowly approached her. A myriad of potential diseases were on his mind, and he wondered if she had caught one, if he had harmed her in some way...some terrible, intimate way that shouldn't be discussed over subspace.

But she smiled as she walked up to him, until she raised her hand and smacked him across the face. He absorbed the sting, knowing it was not nearly as terrible as the punishment he deserved. So she was angry with him...he could feel his heart begin to crack.

"That's for walking out on me. And for guilt-tripping," she growled, but her next move took him by complete surprise. She held his face firmly in her hands and sealed her soft, sweet lips over his.

Her kiss was desperate, passionate, filled with unfulfilled desires and half-imagined wants, and a deep, dark longing. He closed his eyes automatically as she wrapped her arms around him, and he tentatively did the same, carefully pulling her closer and finally replying with no words to her silent command (her tongue was exploring his mouth and insisting on a duel with his). Her kiss was deep, arousing, and took away the sting of her slap. After several minutes of locking lips with him, she pulled away and set her dark gaze on his.

"And that's for coming back," she whispered, kissing him again, but briefly this time. She smiled softly at him and carefully rubbed his cheek where a yellowish bruise was sure to form. Her erratic emotions were hard to field, but it appeared that his arrival had negated her previous anger. She wasn't going to turn him away...at least not yet.

"Desiree," he breathed, but she pressed a finger to his lips and took his hand.

"You caught me at an odd time," she said softly, dragging him further into the house, down a hallway toward a door. "I was just about to take a nap. Wanna join me?"

"If you wish me to," he said in reply. He would do whatever pleased her, whatever she wished. Her absence had left a gaping hole in him, and it was like the other half of his soul was missing. _That is an illogical notion_, the logical side of him chided, _but it is very agreeable to see her again, to know that she still..._ He wasn't sure what she wanted, or what she felt, but he followed her like a _sehlat _kit and closed the door to her room. She laid down on the bed, facing away from him, but she twisted around and frowned at him.

"You coming?" she asked, patting the bed beside her. "Come on, lay down."

He obeyed, but left space between his body and hers. He had not laid with a woman like this since those nights a month ago, and it was making his spine tingle in anticipation, but of what he did not know.

She twisted around again. "Oratt, I don't bite," she said, beckoning him closer, then she grinned, "unless you want me to."

The thought of that made his fingertips crackle with electricity, and he obeyed her, helpless to her whims, determined to please her. If she wanted him closer (his beast, the monster locked away inside his chest, was growling in approval), then he would move closer.

He lightly touched his chest to her back, and she scooted back until they were pressed together, connected. She gently took his hand and wrapped it around her waist, settling his hand on her abdomen, right below her navel. She laid her hand over his, then sighed in contentment, snuggling into the pillow, playfully poking her sock-encased feet at his.

"Oratt," she whispered. "There's something I need to tell you. Please...stay here. Don't run out on me again."

"I will not," he promised, touching his nose to her hair and inhaling her wonderful scent. _He had missed this..._ "I will stay."

"You'd better," she murmured with a smile. It warmed his heart to see it.

"You'd better, because I'm pregnant. It's yours, Oratt. I'm carrying your child."


	7. Decisions

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt), dinopoodle, T'Sara, maba7x, clutzrox, makaem, and 09sasha for your reviews! Holy crap, that's a lot of supporters!**_

Oratt was frozen on the pillow, replaying the words she had uttered over and over again in his head. _I'm pregnant. It's yours. I'm carrying your child. _He was...going to be a father? Truly this time? This was not another man's child she was passing off as his?

The memory pushed the forefront of his brain, but he pushed it back down, breathing in her scent and trying to process this. She was pregnant. The child was his...how had this happened?

Was it the _pon farr_? Did the imbalance in his nuerochemistry somehow make him more potent? After a century, not much research into whether humans and Vulcans were genetically compatible had taken place. All initiatives to start such studies were immediately shut down by the High Command. It was deviant to engage in sexual relations with other species. That would be defiling all that was Vulcan...or so he had believed until he had met Desiree. Was it really that bad to engage with a human? With other species? What was so bad about it? The evidence that their two species were much closer than they first thought was slowly growing beneath his fingers. He pressed lightly into her abdomen, as if he could feel the life growing within her...his child..._his _child...

What would it look like? Would it have green blood like him, and pointed ears? Would its ears be blunt like its mother? Would it have blonde hair? Black hair like his was in his younger days? Brown eyes? Blue eyes like Desiree? What would they name it? How would their combined DNA react with each other? Would this child be emotional? Or would it have the same capacity to control itself like him?

He had a child coming in less than a year. He had a woman in his arms who may or may not be willing to have him as a husband. She had helped him through the fever, forgiven him for everything he had done...and she had shared the pregnancy with him, made sure he knew, and had furthermore allowed him to come into her home and lay beside her...like husband and wife...

She was not his wife, though. _Not yet_, his beast replied. _Change that as soon as possible. When she wakes up, speak with her._

Damn the High Command. Damn the Council of Physicians. He had a chance to have more than he ever dreamed he could have, things of value, a wife, a child. A _beautiful _and _eager _wife. A child that could very well shake the core of his world. He did not know if their were any other hybrids out there, if they remained hidden, if they abandoned Vulcan society for other shores, more tolerant homes. He decided then and there that he would do the same if he perceived Desiree and his child were in danger. He would move them somewhere safer.

Did the High Command even know? Or the Council? The aide who had contacted him, did he know? Did Soval know?

Desiree had more answers as far as the aide and Soval were concerned, and his real concern now was keeping her safe, healthy, and content. Whatever she needed, whatever she wanted, he would provide. It was his duty, but more than that, it was some deep dark primal instinct. _Keep her safe, and let no other man touch her. She is _mine!

He lay there, staring at her waves of caramel blonde hair, and he spied something that made his stomach lurch and the beast purr. Beneath her luscious waves of hair, on her neck, was an old mark, an old scar. A bite mark.

_His _mark.

His breathing became slightly ragged as he moved her hair out of the way and looked at the mark closer. Yes, it was his, about a month old...from his _pon farr_...it appeared he had missed it when he was erasing the bite marks he had given her, and she perhaps had not noticed it, but it was there...her skin was painted with his mark, not some other man's...the primal part of him was roaring. _Yes, she is mine, mother of my child, wife of my body, wife of Oratt!_

He could not banish the thought. It stayed lodged in his brain, and he pulled her closer, burying his nose into her hair and kissing her cheek. _My sweetest Desiree, you and I will get through this. There is no need to fear or worry about the future. I will see you satisfied in every way..._

He could feel himself giving in to sleep, and he fell asleep next to his beloved, his hand still caressing her abdomen.

…

"See, told you."

Oratt slowly drifted back to consciousness, his mind becoming fully engaged in a matter of seconds. He knew that voice...

"Well, thank you for cluing me in, Lucy. Now we have to have a serious mommy and daddy talk, so please leave."

"Yeah, that's your beef, not mine. I'll be in the kitchen after he claims you. See you in a bit."

Oratt opened his eyes and looked at Desiree, who was propped up on one elbow, and he heard the door close.

"Lucy Hardister? Is she a friend?"

Desiree glanced down at him. "You know her?"

"I was in charge of her case a year ago. The details are confidential, but yes, I am acquainted with her."

"She said you looked cute when you sleep. I agree," she said, kissing his forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, my rest was quite energizing. And you?"

"Best sleep I've had in a long time," she said warmly, stroking his face. "Mainly because...I'm not worried anymore. Not really."

"Have I relieved your worries?" He felt like purring; her touch was making him feel more contented than he had ever felt before.

"Mm," she moaned, he assumed in affirmation. But he closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow as she leaned down and kissed him.

"You know," she whispered. "I've been having the weirdest dreams about you...not weird, just...strange."

He frowned up at her. "I confess...I have had dreams about you that were...unusual. My dreams are never that...stimulating."

Her eyes flooded with surprise, and her eyes got dark. "You too?"

"I don't understand."

She blushed. "Well...ever since that...encounter...I've had the craziest dreams. They're...arousing..."

He sat up and carefully pressed her shoulder down so she was flat on her back. "You find me arousing?" he purred, and her eyes darkened further.

"If you're anything like dream you, then yeah, I do."

He tentatively stroked two fingers down her face, and he felt a spark in his mind, a connection. He gasped and gently cupped her face in his hands, and he could feel it...it was throbbing, pulsating, glimmering with light...a base bond. Strong, beating with life like a heart pumping blood...a base bond. With her.

"Desiree..." he breathed.

_She was sleeping beneath him, dead to the world from exhaustion, but he spied a tiny smile on her face...he could feel the contentment, the joy pulsating in her being...he reached out and cupped her face, acting on instinct...he whispered the words, poured himself into her, and she gasped and bucked her hips, whispering the reply in her sleep...he could feel just by pressing his fingers to her that she was aroused, ready...he awoke her with a strong thrust, and they continued into the morning hours..._

"Desiree," he breathed again, sitting back on his heels, a wave of guilt washing over him, followed by a roar of approval from the beast. He was base bonded to her. She was his _telsu_, more than an intended, less than a wife. And she was carrying his child.

_She's undeniably yours, _the beast growled. _Take her, make her yours again, deepen the bond and make a family!_

No, he sighed, I must have permission.

"Desiree, I..." He sighed in frustration, not able to explain it in words, and he gently cupped her face again and concentrated on accessing the bond. It flared to life, and he poured a thought-his desire to be hers-into her, and he watched her eyes widen.

"When I talk to you," she whispered, "it's like I can read you like an open book. It's like I know what you're feeling underneath it all...honey bun, what's going on?"

He swallowed thickly. "I initiated a base bond a month ago...when you were sleeping, I...acted on instinct. Vulcans are pair bonded...an empathic and, at times, telepathic connection between husband and wife."

She frowned. "You mean we're _married_?"

"No," he clarified. "Marriage entails a full bond. What we share at this moment is the base for that, a...primer, so to speak. You are more than my...fiance? Yet less than my wife."

"So we're...engaged to be married?"

"This displeases you?"

"Honey bunny..." she sighed and kissed him lightly, then rested her forehead against his. "I...I was going to ask you if you wanted to give us a shot...so...let's give this a try? I mean, this engagement thing...I need time to let it sink in, but...why do I get the feeling you're gonna stick this out with me?"

"I will certainly...stick this out with you...if that is what pleases you. I am eager to explore this...the chance for us."

"Us," she repeated. "I like that...Desiree and Oratt...kind of has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds quite pleasing," he purred, and she smiled at him.

"You hungry?"

He nodded, and she led him to the kitchen. Lucy was sitting at the table, drinking water and reading over a PADD.

"So have you two worked out your mommy and daddy issues?"

"Oratt's going to be living here for a while." She looked at him. "That ok with you?"

"I will live with she who is my _telsu_."

"_Telsu_?" Lucy squealed, her face lighting up. "When did this happen, doctor?"

He gave her a stern look and she raised her hands in a sign of non-resistance. "None of my business, ok...but congrats anyway on the baby. And the bonding. You two look nice together."

Desiree giggled, and Oratt sighed in a mix of exasperation and relief. This might work, he thought. This might work.

…

"Have you ever been cheated on?"

He turned to her and frowned, but she smiled wanly at him as the cool early autumn breeze whistled through the trees. The day was cloudy and damp, but Oratt had agreed to take a short walk with her anyway. He had been living with her and Lucy for two days now, sleeping with her in her bed, and she wanted to get some stuff straight before they went further.

"Cheated on? I do not know the meaning of that."

She sighed. "Have you been in a relationship where...the other person...has sex with someone else? They go behind your back and lie to you, and destroy your trust..."

He fixed his eyes on the ground. "Yes...I have been cheated on. My wife...got pregnant with another man's child."

Desiree gasped and pondered that, and she tried to put herself in Oratt's place. He must have been swamped with old memories, and she remembered how relieved he was to have scientific proof that her child was fathered by him. Now she understood (she had been a little hurt yesterday when he had insisted on scanning their child; it was as if he didn't trust her), and she sympathized.

"What happened then?" she pressed softly.

"She had me raise the child as my own. I...considered him my son. Until I found out that he was not my son." He sighed and took a deep breath. "She left me soon after with her child and went to be with his father. Our bond was not strong...it was easy to break."

She reached for his gloved hand and entwined her fingers with his, and he gasped and looked down at her.

"Desiree, you would really take such liberties with me in public?" He sounded shocked. He _was _shocked. She could feel it.

She frowned. "I'm holding your hand, what's the big deal? You're my..._telsu_? Is that how you say that?"

His expression softened, and he nodded. "Yes, you are my _telsu_, Desiree, but...Vulcans do not...hold hands."

"How do you display affection in public? Or do you even?"

"We do." He raised his first two fingers out to her, the rest of his digits folded down. "Do this, and touch my fingers with yours."

He took off his gloves, and she took off her mittens, and she formed the sign and touched her fingers to his. She gasped in surprise.

It was like an electric current was passing through her core, igniting nerves and making her feel...wet. Moisture pooled at her thighs when he stroked his fingers first down hers, then slowly back up. They were on an abandoned street not far from the house, and she was glad they were alone. She moaned softly as he stroked her up and down again; she felt light-headed, like she might collapse.

"Desiree?"

"Do that again," she whispered, pressing her fingers harder to his. It was strange, she felt a surge of satisfaction and pleasure that was not hers, and she realized it was coming from him.

"Wow...ok, I promise not to hold your hand...I think I like this better."

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and his eyes were the warmest she had ever seen, and she grinned naughtily. Without further ado, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, briefly, but heatedly.

"Desiree," he growled against her lips. "We are in public."

"Hey," she whispered, pulling away from him. "I said I wouldn't hold your hand. I didn't promise that you wouldn't get surprised with a kiss now and again." She grinned and put her mittens back on, then shoved her hands in her pockets to stop herself from trying to hold his hand again, or put her arm around him.

"You have been cheated on."

He stated it as a fact, not a question, and she sighed.

"Yeah...four years ago. My boyfriend...my first serious boyfriend...I gave him my all, and he took it, and my trust...and he threw it in the trash."

Her eyes welled with tears. "One day, I'll tell you more. But not now. I'll just have a meltdown."

She could feel a burst of white-hot anger, and she appreciated it, but laid a hand on his shoulder. "It hurts to talk about what makes us vulnerable to the person we want to be vulnerable to," she whispered. "I've learned that in the end, he's not worth my tears. He didn't care about me, and I don't care about him. And that's that."

The anger did not abate for a while as they walked on in silence, but finally she felt it fade, and she could think clearly again.

"That feels crazy," she thought out loud. "Please don't get angry, baby. It makes it hard for me to think."

"I will control myself...I should control myself. Forgive me."

She smiled at him and stroked his cheek, and they turned onto the street that would take them back to the house.

"Now comes the hard part."

"And what is that?"

She grinned mirthlessly. "Now we have to call my mom."


	8. The Call

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt – you're welcome, sweetie), makaem, dinopoodle, maba7x, and a very special thank you to T'Sara for reviewing and being a good monitor on the review page. You are all wonderful!**_

_**A/N: This chapter contains swears, and real-life issues. If that makes you sad, bail out for the chapter and come back later when I have a more cheerful installment.**_

"Well, here goes nothing," Desiree said, sitting down in a chair in front of the console. She sighed and turned on the communications application, then turned to Oratt, who was standing off to the side as she had told him. She hadn't talked with her mother for about a month, and considering her mother was busy with a new boyfriend, she apparently didn't have time to call and check up on her daughter. But it wasn't as if Desiree held herself blameless in this affair. She had been clamoring for independence since her senior year of high school, and her mother had given it to her, and if Desiree wanted to talk to her mother more than once a month or so, she would have to make the call.

She dialed the number and waited, breathing in deep, even breaths, but she frowned when a man with flaming red hair answered the call.

"Ronald, where's my mom?" she asked impatiently.

"She's doing her hair. We're going out this evening. If you've called to beg for money, you might as well hang up."

She laughed mirthlessly. "No, I need to have a talk with my mother. Get her on the line." She sighed. "Please."

She rolled her eyes as the man turned around. "Delilah!" he called, and Desiree stared down her mother's boyfriend as she waited for her mother to get on the line. Finally, Delilah Rushing stepped into the line of the viewcam, and Desiree offered her a wan smile.

"Hey, mom. Can we talk?"

Delilah looked over at Ronald, who was scowling, then turned to the screen and sighed. "Honey, now's not a good time. We're going out this evening, and-"

"You go out every week, mom. I only get to talk to you once in a blue moon. Please, pull up a chair and let's talk. It's important."

Her mother's expression turned sour, and she did as Desiree asked and grabbed a stool from the bar. "Ok, what's so important, Desiree?"

"I'd prefer to talk to you alone. Is that too much to ask?"

Delilah's jaw stiffened. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to him too."

"Wow, mom, way to make your own decisions," Desiree growled derisively. "Considering this is _my_ business that I'm _choosing _to share with you...I'd think you'd have the decency to afford me some privacy."

She was near tears now. Every time she tried to talk to her mother, some guy was always lurking in the background, listening in on her. It scared Desiree, and saddened her, because it seemed like her mother couldn't get away from the controlling type. She needed a good man who respected her and cared for her, not one that controlled her every move.

From nowhere, she felt a rush of calm, and she glanced over at Oratt, who nodded and offered her the tiniest little smile. But his eyes were cold as he watched the screen, and she knew he was sharing her distress over her mother and her unhealthy habits.

"Baby, we're a family. Is it something medical? If so, why are you calling me?"

"Mom," she groaned. Another deflection of the real issue. "Mom, if you must have Ronald in the room with you...fine. I'm pregnant."

Delilah stared at the screen for several seconds, and Ronald narrowed his eyes in the background. She glanced at Oratt, whose expression was placid, but she thought she could feel a beat of anger that he was fighting to suppress. She smiled slightly at his irritation on her behalf, then shook her head minutely from side to side.

"How far along are you?" Delilah croaked. Her expression had gone from irritated to amazed in the space of three minutes.

"Six weeks. I've known for about two weeks now."

Delilah nodded and swallowed. "Why didn't you call me two weeks ago?"

"Because, mother, I was dealing with some stuff. I was waiting on the baby's father to be informed."

"And that took two weeks? Honey, has he bailed on you?" Desiree's heart clenched at the frightened tone her mother's voice took on, and she smiled ruefully.

"No, he's living with me now. We're...dating."

Oratt frowned in confusion, but she smiled at him, as if to say _I'll explain later_. He raised an eyebrow, then turned back to the screen. Ronald had his hand on her mother's shoulder, and she scowled privately at his mock comfort for her.

"Is he there? Can I meet him?"

Desiree took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. "No, mom, you can't. Because...I'll be honest with you. I don't trust you. If I tell you, even with him out of the room, you'll tell him, and I don't want him in my business."

Delilah's expression soured and she glared at the screen. "I don't want to get in this discussion with you right now, young lady."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Don't pull that with me, mom. You don't share your life with me, and I have every right to withhold that information from you. You'll meet him in due time, if I think you're ready to."

"What is so special about your boyfriend that she can't meet him now?" Ronald interjected.

"That, Mr. Schultz," Desiree growled, "is none of your concern."

Ronald glared at the screen, then whispered something in her mother's ear. Her mother frowned at her and left the room, and Ronald stepped closer to the screen.

"You've gone and upset your mother, and I don't appreciate that, Desiree."

"Don't act like you're anything close to a father figure to me, Ronald," she said, her tone cold. "My life is none of your business. I called to inform my mother that she is going to have a grandbaby, and until you stop treating her like your doormat, I won't share details."

Ronald's already pallid complexion turned to something akin to spoiled milk, and she saw a vein pulsing in his forehead. "You are an ungrateful little brat," he hissed, and she grinned at him. "I thought someone your age would know better than this."

"What makes you think I have to take your shit, Ronald? Call me what you want, this baby is none of your business. And neither is my 'special' boyfriend."

She could feel Oratt's anger boiling closer to the surface, but she shoved back with a feeling of deadly calm. She was done wasting tears on men like Ronald.

"Now, if you'll call my mother back in here, I'm not done talking to her."

"Yes, you are," Ronald retorted, "until you learn some proper respect and can apologize to me and your mother."

"I owe you nothing," she growled. "I'll talk to my mother later."

Ronald terminated the transmission without further ado, and Desiree sat there, slightly stunned, and she could feel the tears building behind her eyes. With a jolt, the tears poured forth and a wretched, choked sob escaped her lips, and she broke down.

She could feel his hands on her shoulders, and she put her hand over his and squeezed, not bothering to keep their hand-to-hand contact to a minimum.

"I just feel," she sobbed, her voice breaking, "that...she doesn't get it! He's so _bad _for her! He controls her every move, and I want to _kill _that man sometimes, more often than not!"

She took several deep breaths and tried to calm down, as her tears were making it hard for her to speak. "And I think...back to when I was with Ethan...he was the same way...I swear, Oratt, if you _ever _become like him, I will walk out, and take the kid with me. Understand?"

He squeezed her shoulders gently and rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will never become like that man, _ashaya_," he whispered. "He does not respect your mother, and that is not a relationship. That is control. I do not seek to control you. I want a _relationship_, a connection."

She smiled up at him, forcing him to move his head. His brown eyes glowed with warm, and she felt secure in his arms, safe from the turbulent world around her. She loved that feeling.

"Keep talking like that, and you'll have it," she whispered, and she leaned up and kissed his chin.

"I do have a question," he said, hauling her to her feet and turning her to face him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and she laid her head on his chest.

"Ask away."

"Why did you tell your mother that we are...dating? And what is dating?"

She smiled into his tunic. "Dating is where you go do something with a potential mate, sometimes multiple times, to determine their compatibility as a partner. It's a way to see if two people have common interests and goals, and if dating gets serious, whether that person is trustworthy and has the qualities you're looking for in a partner."

She sighed. "As for you and me, you've already shown me qualities I like...you felt guilty for hurting me...you're cautious, not pushy...I like that. You stood by me today and you've promised to be there for me. I like where this is going."

He rubbed his hand up her back and entwined his fingers in her hair, and she let a few more tears stream down her cheeks. "My mom, on the other hand...Ronald is a bastard, and I hate him."

Oratt stiffened. "I did not like the insult he directed at you. I do not appreciate this man insulting my _telsu_, and if he were here in person, he would regret that."

She smiled ruefully. "I'd beat you to him. He's slowly gaining control of every aspect of my mother's life," she spat. "You saw it...she can't have a private conversation with her daughter without him there. She's my mom, she's known him for five months. Who has more right to private time?"

Oratt rumbled in agreement. "And more than that...he told her to leave and she did. She's leaving so-called 'discipline' to him. I'm 23 years old, I don't need someone to discipline me for my behavior. And notice how he didn't let me talk to my mother after she left?" She sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to dump my family problems on you..."

"She is your mother, and you are my _telsu_. She is my family too."

She smiled and looked up at him. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here," she whispered, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. "I don't know how I would have handled that on my own...it's nice to have support."

"It is good to be that support for she who is the mother of my child," he murmured in reply, lightly touching her abdomen. She put her hand over his and smiled at him, then lightly kissed him.

"Thank you," she breathed against his lips, and they broke apart only when they heard the key scraping into the lock.

Lucy wandered in and ignored them, hanging her fedora hat on the rack by the door and heading straight for her room, and Desiree turned back to Oratt with raised eyebrows.

"Hm, I guess we're not very interesting...I didn't answer the other part of your question, did I?"

"You told your mother we are dating. Do you consider what we're doing dating? I do not know much about your mating rituals, so I am deferring to your judgment on this."

She grinned. "Well, I said we're dating because...we kind of are," she admitted. "But mostly my mother would flip cheese if I laid everything on her at once, considering she already has enough drama with Ronald around..."

She huffed in irritation and closed her eyes. "One day...I hope she sees the light and gets out of that relationship. I can't do anything for her but give her support and let her know that I'm here if she needs me. She's a grown woman, and she has to learn to make her own decisions, and to live with those decisions."

Oratt nodded. "Are you hungry?"

She looked down at her growling stomach and grinned wickedly. "How ever did you guess?" she teased, and he quirked an eyebrow.

"May I prepare something for you?"

She tilted her head and gave him appraising look. "Sure, and I'll see how well you cook. Another great quality in a man...one who can make his own food."

His honey brown eyes twinkled and he told her to have a seat, and Lucy strode back in.

"You ok, Desiree?" she asked gently. "You look like you could use a hug."

She laughed. "My family is..."

"Special?" Lucy finished with a rueful grin. Desiree nodded.

"Special," she agreed, turning her attention back to the console. She pulled up her messages and scanned them, and finding nothing important, sat down and talked with Lucy as Oratt fixed dinner. They had a vegetable casserole of sorts, and Desiree found it delicious.

"You are really good at this," she groaned as she ate a second helping. "Can I have this recipe?"

Oratt looked quite pleased with himself. "If you wish. I am pleased you like it."

"Seriously, doctor, this is really good," Lucy chimed. The younger woman had a PADD propped up against her glass, and Desiree gave her a pointed look.

"I have a test on Monday," Lucy explained. "I need to memorize these sequences."

"What are you studying?" Oratt asked politely, and she glanced up at him with a mischievous grin.

"I'm studying Vulcan physiology, actually. I figured it would be useful, considering I plan on living on your planet one day."

There was a long pause, and Oratt's expression was sober and contrite. "With Strom?"

She nodded, not taking her eyes off her PADD. "If he'll have me."

Desiree could tell there was some friction between the two of them, and she didn't want to get involved. A long pause passed in an awkward silence until Oratt began questioning her further on her studies, and by the end of his interrogation, his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

"Ms. Hardister, you have made extraordinary progress for one your age. You are twenty, are you not?"

She nodded and fixed him with a level gaze. "That's very kind of you to say, doctor. Thank you."

He bowed his head in acknowledgment, and the rest of the meal passed in an easier silence.

…

"Doctor, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Oratt looked up from his reading and stared at Lucy with a neutral gaze. He was not necessarily looking forward to this conversation, but it could no longer be avoided, since they were now living in the same house.

He nodded curtly and set down his PADD, then folded his hands on the table and waited for her to speak.

"I recognize now that you are what's best for Desiree. She's in love with you, and so far you're treating her right, and I'm seeing a very different man before me than the one who forcibly recalled Strom two years ago."

He blinked and bowed his head. "Thank you, Ms. Hardister. I...am trying to be the best man I can for your friend."

"So why did you recall Strom?"

"Because I thought...at the time, I thought you were a threat to him. Please understand, Ms. Hardister...it has been commonly accepted that engaging in...intimate behavior with humans is deviant and unnatural. We have had this fact drilled into our heads from the time we became allies. Now...I question the logic of that assessment."

"What is the point of proclaiming IDIC if you refuse to practice it?"

Oratt stared up at her in wonder, and she smirked. "Xenophile, remember? Forcibly bonded to a Vulcan, remember?"

"I have not forgotten...I will...look into Strom's situation and see if I can lift his restrictions."

"You put them in place. Can't you take them off? Don't you have that authority, Mr. Ranking-Member-of-the-Council-of-Physicians?"

Oratt stared at her, narrowing his eyes. "I will lift them as soon as I can access his information. I have to go to the Embassy or the Consulate to do so."

"Good," she said with an eerie smile. "In exchange, I'll take you shopping, and we'll see about getting you some new clothes. We'll drop by the Consulate on our way back."

He frowned. "I have clothing, Ms. Hardister."

"Do you want to impress her or not?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to imply something?"

"Only that if I saw Strom dressed in an argyle sweater and slacks, I'd take him to my bed before he could say 'logic is tranquility'."

She quirked an eyebrow at him in challenge, and he considered her statement. He truly did want Desiree to look on him as not only a potential mate, but the only man who could satisfy her needs. He wanted to look his best for her, and he was willing to give Lucy's suggestions a try.

"Very well. But I will be the final judge of what I wear."

She smiled. "Of course. But you'll be thanking me later. Shall we?"

He frowned. "Now?"

"Are you busy? There's no time like the present, you know."

He sighed and put down his PADD, and after accepting the toboggan she offered him (she insisted it was for his own good), he followed her out the door.


	9. Argyle

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Lucy and Strom), maba7x, T'Sara and dinopoodle for reviewing! You are all wonderful, thank you!**_

_**A/N: Another smut chapter. As in rated M. Don't like, don't read.**_

V'Las took a sip of tea as he pondered the report from Dr. Varmik, and he glared at the PADD, inwardly growling at the information on it. It wasn't just another Vulcan male falling for a human woman, no...this was far worse. This Vulcan male, the noteworthy and respected Dr. Oratt, had gotten this woman _pregnant!_

He took a deep breath and set the PADD down, taking another sip of tea. The first male to fall to these human vixens, L'Vek, an adviser for the NX program, had escaped retribution for this deviant behavior because of his family ties. He was of T'Hya's house, one of the oldest and most powerful clans, next to Surak's. And Kuvak, too, had engaged in this madness and taken a human wife as well. L'Vek and Kuvak were beyond his reach, but Oratt...

He knew Oratt, or thought he did. The man fell in line with what was acceptable in Vulcan society, had spoken eloquently against a young deviant a year ago. He was a doctor in the Inter-species Medical Exchange, a valuable member of the medical community on Vulcan.

And now the man had turned to madness, taking a human, making her _pregnant_...V'Las had been certain until now that such a thing was impossible. But Dr. Varmik was absolutely sure, and the readings supported him: this woman was pregnant with a hybrid...a bastard child.

He hastily picked up the PADD again and searched the human database for this woman, and he found her and contemplated her profile. Desiree Beaumont...he admitted (very privately) that she was aesthetically pleasing, for a human. Blonde hair was never seen in Vulcans, and curls were rare. She was everything a Vulcan was not: curvy, not slender, wild curls instead of rim-rod-straight hair, and she smiled widely in the picture on her profile page. He could see pure joy in her eyes as her picture stared back at him...and for a moment, he imagined himself in Oratt's shoes, taking a human as a mate, seeing that unrestrained joy in her eyes...

He felt an uncharacteristic surge of very unchaste bliss at the thought, and he banished it from his mind as soon as he realized the appeal. No, engaging in sexual behavior with humans was wrong, immoral, _deviant_! Only a perverted Vulcan would try such a thing...and yet his eyes lingered hungrily on her curves, on her curls, on that expression in her deep blue eyes...

His finger tapped the button, and her picture disappeared. It was not logical to linger on such thoughts. He had work to do.

…

Oratt glanced up from his tea and the report he was reviewing when he heard Desiree's footsteps coming down the hallway. Lucy had left half an hour ago and would not be back until the morning (she was spending the night at a friend's house for a 'study party'), and Desiree had laid down for a nap. But she was apparently awake, and he smiled ever so slightly at her when she walked into the kitchen.

She smiled at him as she walked in, but then she stopped, did a double take, and turned to him completely, her eyes raking over him. She slowly brought her hand to her mouth and raised her eyebrows, and he frowned slightly, standing so she could take in his entire outfit. He was wearing slacks, a button-down shirt, and a sweater in a pattern Lucy called 'argyle'. She said it would make him look studious and sophisticated, but he wasn't sure if her assessment was correct. He could feel through the bond that Desiree was amused, but something darker was growing in her, something more...primal. He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

"This style of dress is...unusual for me, but I hope you find it agreeable," he said, turning in a full circle for her. Her hand fell from her mouth to her chest, and he watched in fascination as she began toying with the top button of her button-down shirt. She took a step toward him, and he felt a twinge of arousal as her fingers deftly unfastened the button she was toying with.

"Agreeable?" she purred, stepping a little closer. The second button came undone, and he was transfixed by the work of her fingers. "Agreeable is an understatement."

He glanced back up to look into her deep blue eyes, and he discovered that her pupils had bloomed. The third button came unfastened. He swallowed thickly, unable to tear his eyes from her as the fourth, fifth and sixth buttons were undone by her deft fingers. He could see the soft roundness of her breasts, her undergarment, the luscious expanse of her lower torso.

She stepped even closer and he breathed in, trying to calm himself, but he closed his eyes when her scent flooded his nose. She always smelled so wonderful, but her scent had changed as she slowly approached him, teased him with her disrobing. Her scent was spicy, heated, and it made heat spill into his core, made his fingertips crackle with electricity, made his vision swim a little as he focused solely on her.

She shucked off her shirt with ease, tossing it over a nearby chair. He breathed in, fighting the growing urge to bend her over the table and have her here, but as she unzipped her skirt and let it slip down her legs, his mouth went dry, and he knew that his control was slipping away. She was undoing him, and she wasn't even touching him yet...

"Desiree," he breathed, reaching for her. She took his hand in hers and pressed her scantily clad body to his fully clothed one, and the contact made his pants feel too tight, and she smirked wickedly up at him.

"Don't think I can't feel that," she purred in his ear, licking the tip. "Mm..." She giggled darkly, sucking the tip of his ear and caressing his fingers with hers. His breathing was becoming erratic, and his pants became impossibly tighter.

"Yes, I feel it," she growled seductively. "So...why don't you come with me, and we'll take care of that?"

She dragged him back towards the hall, and he went willingly, amazed, never daring to hope that she might want him like this. But he was confused when she opened the door to the bathroom and pushed him inside.

She locked the door behind her and eyed him with open desire, and he frowned at her, still confused.

"You have way too many clothes on, honey bun," she murmured, reaching behind her. He heard a snap, and her undergarment fell free, revealing her luscious and ample breasts to him. He swallowed. "It's not logical to take a shower fully clothed. That defeats the purpose."

Suddenly, the environment made sense, and he tore off his argyle sweater in a heartbeat. He began working at the buttons of his shirt as she tugged him closer by the belt loops in his pants, and he could feel himself throb at that. She undid his pants and tore off her underwear as he continued to disrobe. She started the water, looking over her shoulder at him as she let her caramel locks free from their bonds, and once the water was hot, she beckoned him to join her with a crooked finger and a wicked, seductive smile.

He pulled her into the shower, snapped the door shut and turned her to face him, and the hot water splashed over him like a warm caress. It was quite an arousing feeling, the combination of the steaming jet of water and her warm, supple body pressed to his. She kissed him fervently, combing her soft fingers through his spread of chest hair, and she tugged gently at it as he nipped playfully at her lips.

Unbidden, the beast inside him forced him to think back to the first year of his marriage to T'Resh, how he had always wondered what it would be like to bathe with his mate, and he had insinuated that he would like to do that with her. She refused him. She refused him every time he tried to touch her, she accepted his gifts and favors with cold disdain, and she never touched him unless it was absolutely necessary.

And here he was, holding this human woman in his arms, graced with her fervent and passionate kiss, her body, her willingness to not only let him touch her in this way, but to carry his child. She had initiated this, driven herself into a frenzy from just the sight of him in argyle. He wondered for the hundredth time how he had come to be so blessed.

She moaned into his mouth and trailed her hand down his body, and he gasped when she grasped him with a firm but gentle hand. She began to caress him, moaning with him as he groaned into her mouth, and he felt her genuine and heated passions bleeding out of her fingertips.

"Beloved," he breathed as she turned her attention to his ears. She seemed to enjoy lavishing her tongue upon him, and he closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut as she increased her pace below and ran her tongue ever so gently along the edge of his ear.

"My love," she whispered back, trailing her lips to his neck. She squeezed him very gently, and he growled in pleasure and slight protest. Her ministrations were exquisite, beyond anything that he could have imagined, but this felt slightly wrong to him. _He _should be the one rewarding _her_ for this, not the other way around.

"Desiree, let me please you," he whispered into her wet hair. "Let me show you how...grateful I am. For this. For all of this."

"No," she purred into his neck, nipping at him. "Not until I'm done here."

He moaned and threw back his head, the sensations she was pulling out of him becoming too much to bear. Her wet tongue licked at his flesh, tracing circles, connecting the dots to nowhere on his skin, and the water flowed over the two of them as she pulled him further and further into the depths of ecstasy.

"Desiree," he groaned, trying to hold back. "Desiree, please..." He wasn't sure if he was begging for release or for a chance to show her his gratitude, to show her what she was doing to him, only intensified by ten.

"I know you want to finish," she cooed, kissing his trembling lips ever so gently. "I know you want to. So _do it_."

She brushed her thumb over his tip, and he gasped, and a few moments later, he felt release. He looked down at himself and saw the mess he was making, but she was moaning and murmuring praise to him as he covered her hand in his seed.

"Desiree," he panted, and he watched with widening eyes as she raised her hand to her lips and tasted him. She groaned and her eyes fluttered shut, and when she opened them they were dark, hooded, lusty. He growled and pushed her up against the wall.

"I have done as you asked, and now it's my turn," he breathed, thrusting his fingers deep into her womanhood. She was already wet for him, and he purred in pleasure. Yes, this was the kind of thing he had always wanted to do, and it made him want to weep with joy that his Desiree was so willing to accommodate him. He would reward her thoroughly for that...

Her mewls and moans of pleasure were a delight to his ears, and he searched deeper, stroking her, teasing her. A noise that almost sounded like protest and pain escaped her lips, but he felt through their bond that he was pleasing her, pleasuring her in ways she had dreamed of since their parting. He smirked and nibbled at her neck as he continued his work, and as she spilled for him, he bit down at her shoulder, causing her to call out. Her cries of joy sent delicious shivers down his spine, and he kissed her deeply as she came down from her high.

"Did you enjoy that?" he purred as she panted. She stared up at him with dark eyes.

"You know I did," she replied with a wicked smile, "and I'm far from done with you today."

He kissed her, and the shower echoed with her cries as he thrust into her, holding her with ease against the wall as he ground his hips against hers. He realized belatedly that he might not have given her enough time to recover, but she didn't seem to mind. She let him have her, pushing back against him, silently begging him for more. He granted it, thrusting deeper into her, and she yelped softly, panting as he lifted her up off the floor and rejoined their dance with double fervor, and the tiles took up her call as she howled his name. Again and again and again he thrust, each time deeper, and he knew he had touched a sensitive place when she arched her back. She was clenching and undulating around him, and the feeling was spectacular.

"You...feel..._perfect_," she ground out with an airy moan. He thrust again and she whimpered, and then cried out his name again.

"Say it again," he growled in her ear, licking the soft bluntness of it.

"Oratt!" she cried, obeying his command. He thrust again as a reward, then again, then twice more.

She clenched tightly around him and spilled again for him, and he released his seed deep inside her with one final thrust. She collapsed against the wall, panting with the effort, and she locked him in a slow, sensuous kiss as they washed their hair and bodies.

He carried her to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed, and although he thought she might want to sleep, she pulled him back down and they continued their love-making deep into the night.


	10. The Notice

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Oratt, V'Las, Kuvak and L'Vek), Scarlettbrandi, maba7x, and the anon reviewer for reviewing! You are all wonderful!**_

Desiree stroked her hand up and down his powerful chest, her fingers combing through his gray chest hair. She rubbed him gently, then vigorously, her thoughts lingering on their long love-making session. They had been at each other for hours on end, and it was now very late or very early. She wasn't sure which.

"What time is it?" she murmured, nuzzling into his chest.

"0100," came the soft reply. She kissed his flesh with gentle lips.

"Damn...you're wonderful, honey bun...and I can't help but want more...how many times did we...?"

"Five point three five nine times," Oratt replied, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"What's the point three five nine for?" Desiree asked with a dark little giggle.

He turned to her with a serious look. "Those are the instances I factor in that do not involve actual penetration, the oral-"

She pressed her finger to his lips. "I get it." She raised her head and kissed him softly. "I can't believe I love you this much," she sighed.

A green flushed tinted Oratt's cheeks, and he did not reply. But he did run his fingers through her caramel hair, letting the pads of his fingertips brush her scalp, and she felt his true feelings on the matter flow through his fingers to her skin. She sighed again and nuzzled into him.

"It is hard for me to understand that, Desiree. I am nothing you should want. It's not logical. You are young and aesthetically pleasing, and if you wished it, any man on this planet, on any planet, would fight a mighty army to be yours."

She blushed and kissed the flesh of his shoulder with a passionate, open mouthed kiss, and she let her tongue lightly touch his skin. He gasped.

"Sweet talker. I only want you...it's...it's so crazy, I...I feel like there's this large part of me that's always been waiting for you, and this bond thing...it...it feels so right!"

Tears sprung to her eyes, unbidden, but uncontrollable. "I would gladly fight a mighty army if it meant sharing my life with you," she continued. "But...my past is very ugly. I'm amazed I've found such a wonderful person who likes being with me, and a Vulcan at that," she said with a laugh. "However...not everyone is so kind."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer to him. "Surak taught us that what is, is. It is logical to assume then that what is or has been in your life has made you the woman I desire to bond with. Kindness has nothing to do with it, Desiree, it is simply logic applied." He kissed her forehead. "If you find our current bond agreeable, then you will be most agreeable to the marriage bond. We will be able to speak without words to each other, in our minds. You will know me as none have, and I you, and we will be never and always touching."

He looked into her eyes. "My past is not pleasing either, Desiree. I would hear your story, if you wish to share it."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and she felt a rush of reassurance from him. She smiled slightly and kissed his chest again.

"Well...about five years ago, I was working in an off-Broadway theater...Broadway is this continent's most prestigious commercial theater group. Off-Broadway means a lesser-known theater. I was in musical theater, doing a tour of _Les Miserables_, if you want to know. It's really ironic...I was playing Fantine...anyway, so I was doing the tour and...I met Ethan Lockheart. I thought he was heaven-sent. He was kind, he was smart, he was handsome...I loved him, or at least thought I did. I don't think I really loved him. But at the time, I was naive enough to think that he was the man I was going to spend my life with. Until, I found out one day...he was cheating on me."

She took another deep breath and tried to hold back the tears. "I cannot tell you how much it hurt to find that out. I talked to him, I said I would give him another chance...and he ruined it!" She choked on the words. "He ruined another chance, and another, and I'm just glad I had a friend who was brave enough to drag me out of that relationship."

Her tears continued to flow, and she sniffed, thinking she sounded pitiful. "And...I confronted him, told him we were through...and that bastard had the gall to blame me for the failed relationship! I mean, I wasn't perfect, but..." She took another deep breath. "I moved here, never answered his calls or messages...and I've been here ever since. My work in theater suffered, so I decided to quit...but I got two degrees in college, and I have a license to teach. So I took that and used it here, and now I teach at the local community college."

She could feel his anger flowing rapidly through his touch, and she looked up at him. His eyes were dark and his features were set in displeasure.

"I would have killed him for you." he said bluntly. "I will if he ever bothers you again. He was a fool, Desiree, the fault was his, not yours. That is not an ugly past for you, but for him, it is his shame." He made a face, almost like a grimace. "Would you hear my story now, so you might see that?"

She frowned up at him. "Ok..." The thought that he was willing to kill for her was both frightening and arousing in a strange way, and she shook her head at the thought. "Go ahead, I'm all ears."

He frowned down at her, an endearing look of confusion on his face. "I do not understand."

She grinned and giggled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "It means 'I'm listening'."

He took a deep breath, then began to speak. His voice reverberated through his chest, and she closed her eyes and listened to his words. "On Vulcan our marriages are arranged when we are young. My mate was from a powerful clan, and she was sought after by many. How my parents secured the pairing I do not know, for our clan is small. When it came time for us to be bound in marriage, she called _kal-if-fee_, a marriage challenge, which means a fight to the death. She did not desire me as a mate, she wished another. So I fought and I won."

Desiree gasped slightly, biting her lip at the thought of him killing anyone. But she understood through the bond that he was as disgusted with the thought as she was, though it was cold comfort.

"She allowed me to touch her just once, and then never again," he continued. "She kept our bond closed, so that I would not know her thoughts as a husband might. I desired her, Desiree, I believed I...as you said, loved her. When she gave me news of her pregnancy, I was pleased. I had erroneously believed it would bring us closer, and open our bond, but she became more distant. I raised the son she bore for twenty years as my own. And on the eve of my attaining the position I have now, I discovered that he was the son of the man I had killed, and worse yet, she who was my wife had taken another lover not long after we were bonded."

He closed his eyes, and she touched her nose to his neck and rubbed her thumb up and down his carotid artery. She could feel tears building behind her eyes, but there was more to be said. A tear trailed down her cheek and stopped when it reached his skin.

He continued. "He was entering his _pon farr_...that's what you helped me through...and she wished to call a marriage challenge. I dissolved the bond. I had no desire to kill or be killed for her." He carefully placed her head on the pillow, rolled onto his side, and gazed at her. "So which of them in the stories we have told has the dirty past? We who gave what is right or they who have taken what they do not deserve?" He shook his head. "The boy who I thought to be my son will not even speak to me, not even now, and will not call me father, even though I have raised him. It is their shame, not ours,_ teslu_, not yours, not mine." He stroked her cheek with his two fingers and fell silent.

"And you've been alone ever since?"

"Until you came," he whispered, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips. She traced them with a light finger.

He cupped her cheek with his hand and pressed slightly, and her eyes were almost forced to close. She saw herself as he saw her, like the dawn of love over a dark horizon, spreading light into a desolate valley. He pulled away and she opened tear-filled eyes, but she grabbed his hand and pressed hard, knowing now that such an action was very intimate, only shared between bondmates.

"Our bond is strong," he breathed, his voice dripping with pleasure. She nodded and closed her eyes, and he stroked his fingers over hers.

"So...we both know the pain of being with those kinds of people," she whispered finally. "I swear to you, I will not cheat...I know that pain and would never want anyone else to feel it, no matter what they've done. And besides..." She swallowed thickly. "I love you too much to look at anyone else that way. You were ashamed of hurting me, and Lucy says you ran because that is who you are. I know that you ran because you were still worried about hurting me. And when I asked you to come, you came for me, and you stood by me," she swallowed back tears, "you stood with me even though my family is crazy and probably can't be trusted. So...I..."

She had no more words, but rather shoved him down onto his back and straddled him before he could speak. His eyes were wide with disbelief, as if he couldn't believe she was doing this, and she smirked, leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose.

"Having a hard time believing this is real?"

She could feel through his touch that he thought just that. "I am considered cantankerous, even by my own species, and you have touched me more than anyone in my life, and you do so with love and affection," he replied, his voice tinged with what sounded like desperation. "Can you blame me?"

She grinned and, without further ado, plunged her teeth into the middle of his chest, marking him like he had marked her, and when she felt a gush of his cool, coppery blood flow into her mouth, she raised her head and licked her lips.

"Is it real now?" His eyes were wider now, and she thought he had never looked so endearing. His hair was still in disarray from the 5.359 times they had gone at each other, and he looked younger, and extremely appealing. She teased him with her fingers until he was ready for her, and she showed him her love until the first rays of morning light peeked in through the window.

…

Oratt walked barefoot over the cold floors, and yet he did not mind. It had been three days since his long-lasting "session" with Desiree, but still he was very sated and felt calmer than he had ever felt in his life. She had still made love to him in other ways the other nights, and he was still amazed that she loved him, that she wanted to touch him, that she enjoyed having him so much. He felt lighter and stood up straighter.

He accessed his messages and scanned them, and his brow furrowed as he noticed an important message from the highest tiers of the Council of Physicians. He accessed it and began to read, and his expression turned from calm to worried to dark in a matter of minutes.

He felt soft hands wrapping around his chest, and he leaned back into her, fighting a gnawing, roiling anger that was forming in his gut.

"You're upset," Desiree murmured.

He did not have the time to argue, and if he were completely honest with himself, he would agree that he was upset. He was very upset, displeased, and about to use everything in his power to stop this.

"What is it, Oratt?" She kissed the back of his thin cotton shirt, and he sighed. "Talk to me."

"The Council of Physicians, of which I am a part, has just sent me a notice. They are accusing me of ethical misconduct, and I am to report to Vulcan in two weeks' time for trial."

Desiree let go and came around to face him, and he looked back at the message. "I am entitled to a hearing before the ranking medical officer in the province or territory where the accusation took place. That would be here, and the ranking medical officer is Dr. Sokat...as far as I know, he has never liked me, but he is not an avid supporter of the higher ranking members of the Council, or of the High Command. He is a man devoted to logic...and recently widowed, if I'm not mistaken."

She frowned up at him, and he could feel her thoughts spinning wildly in her head. He sent her all the calm he could muster, and she relaxed.

"So you go to this hearing, and what?"

"I defend myself. There is absolutely no law explicitly saying that a Vulcan cannot explore intimacy with outsiders, or marry an outsider, or have a child by an outsider. I know of no other reason why they would call for this hearing."

"They're calling it because of me?" She sounded vulnerable and heartbroken, but he cupped his beloved's cheek and let her see something close to a smile on his face, even if it was a wry smile.

"They are calling it because of us," he whispered, drawing her close. "They are calling it because they do not understand this relationship we share...they cannot understand...but I will make them. I swear I will do everything in my power to fight this."

"But they can't do this!" she growled, her voice rising to a shout. "You haven't done anything wrong!"

He sighed. He could not share his suspicions that the High Command was corrupt and falling to ruin, bringing Vulcan with it. That they would try him for some petty reason as this...had the concept of IDIC fallen so low?

"I know," he whispered into her hair. "But there is nothing I can do right now but prepare myself for this hearing."

"You're sure they're nothing I can do?" she murmured to him, her fingers carefully wrapping around his.

He closed his eyes and relished this, not sure if he would have her always. He would do his best to fight this, but her concern for him was driving him towards a fixed and intense focus. He had the chance to have more than he could have dreamed, and he was not about to let that be cast aside just because the High Command was a panel of xenophobes and pompous bureaucrats. There was more to life than logic alone. There were personal connections and new things to explore. He had a _telsu _to fight for, and an unborn child. He would win this for them.

"Yes, there is," came a voice, and they both turned and stared at Lucy.

"Sorry for barging in on your business, but I thought I heard Desiree's dulcet tones and thought I'd come to investigate," she said casually. "What's this about you being tried?"

Oratt sighed. "It is none of your concern."

"Um, if I'm going to have to face this same crap when I marry Strom, I'd think it would be nice to at least know what I'll be facing. As I was saying, there is something you can do to fight this. They'll never suspect it, but it will help some."

"What is it?" Desiree asked, and he looked to Lucy expectantly.

"Marry her," she replied, gesturing to Desiree. "That way, you'll become a citizen of Earth and Earth will be required to provide you with legal representation."

Oratt was struck with the most bizarre sensation, as if the bottom of his stomach had fallen away. His fingertips were tingling madly at the suggestion, and he turned to Desiree and shook his head.

"Desiree, I would never want to pressure you into doing such a thing for me. You should-"

"I'll do it."

He was very tempted to let his jaw drop at that, and he stared at her in disbelief. "You...you would do that for me?"

Her eyes were fiery with conviction and defiance. "I've got you where I want you, and no stupid Council is taking away my baby's daddy. You're stuck with me, Oratt."

Lucy laughed and headed for the console. "I'm friends with some lawyers who can help you out. They owe my father a favor or two, and I'm calling them in now. And I'll call the Consulate and talk to Sorak. If anyone, I think he, and maybe even Soval, can help us."

"You know Sorak?" Desiree asked with disbelief. "Soval's aide?"

"He's...good friends with my mom," she said softly with a wink. "I have the nagging suspicion that he's madly in love with her, but she's kind of blind to it. Or maybe she likes giving him a hard time."

Desiree giggled and detached herself from him, stepping forward and embracing Lucy from behind, and the tanned twenty-year-old made a noise of protest.

"No time for your love, Desiree, must get on the line," she growled playfully, and Oratt was momentarily transported to another time when he forced a spoonful of oatmeal onto a catatonic teenager's lips. "Though I do think you are incredibly attractive and consider myself lucky." She winked at Desiree, who laughed and blushed.

"Ms. Hardister, you cannot know how-"

"Save it, Oratt. You lifted Strom's travel restrictions, it's the least I could do."

He watched as the screen turned to a woman with voluminous brown curly hair and a friendly expression. Lucy grinned.

"Hey, Sarah, is either Suzanne or Ricky in?"

"Suzanne's on vacation, but Ricky should be in his office, Lucy Lou. What's the deal?"

"Legal problems. Can I talk to him?"

"Sure thing, sugar. Hold on a minute."

Lucy turned to Desiree and waggled her eyebrows, and his _telsu _giggled. The screen turned to a man with thick black hair and dark eyes, with tanned skin much like Lucy's.

"Lucy Lou!" the man exclaimed! "Long time, no see! How are you?"

"Wonderful. School's great, things are looking up...Mom's dating again, actually."

The man's eyes softened. "That's great, Lucy. How can I help you?"

She grinned. "I've got a wonderful case for you, Ricky."

…

V'Las smirked to himself as he completed his reading and turned his thoughts to Oratt's hearing. He had called for a hearing on Earth, as was his right, unfortunately, but V'Las was sure that it would fall through and Oratt could be tried on Vulcan. One did not simply defy the High Command, or its administrator.

An alarm went off at his console, informing him of an important message, and he accessed it, and as he read, his eyes narrowed and his lips drew in to a thin, displeased line. So this is how it would be?

He would see about that.


	11. Wedding Bells

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**_

Desiree walked up the steps of the courthouse, her heart pounding, nervously adjusting her white sheath dress. Lucy placed her hand on her arm and smiled.

"Don't worry, you look great! His head will spin when he sees you!"

She grinned wryly. "Well, it's not the wedding, it's this hearing. I'm just worried about what's going to happen _after _this wedding."

"We'll win this. There is absolutely no law explicitly stating that a Vulcan and a human can't get together. It's really..." She lowered her voice. "It's the High Command, Desiree. They've been drilling this into the Vulcans' heads, that humans are weak and helpless and wouldn't make good mates, for..._obvious _reasons," she whispered. "But if I am to be candid...I think they're scared of us. And they're scared of what might happen if you and Oratt continue."

Desiree nodded and straightened her coat, and Lucy opened the door to the courthouse for her. She walked into the spacious lobby and saw Oratt and another woman waiting for her.

"This is Mrs. Monroe, she'll be helping us with the paperwork," Oratt explained quietly when Desiree was closer. She held out her fingers for him to take, and he touched them gladly. Mrs. Monroe watched in confusion as their exchange took place, but Desiree was focused on her fiance. His eyes racked her body and she saw them darken, and she smiled to herself. She felt a rush of calm, of joy, of desire pulsing through her fingertips, and she fed him her joy and desire, thinking of all the ways she would have him once this was over and they were alone again.

"If you'll come this way, please," Mrs. Monroe said, breaking the moment. Desiree blinked and followed Oratt and the woman, and she saw her fiance glance back at her, a pleased gleam in his eye. She smiled at him, and Lucy sidled up to her.

"You don't even realize what you're doing, do you?" she whispered. Desiree frowned.

"What? What promiscuous thing am I doing now, Lucy?"

"You're walking approximately three paces behind him," she continued. "That is where a woman walks when she is bonded to a Vulcan male. He goes in front of you, to protect you from danger that may lie ahead," Lucy explained, and Desiree felt a rush of pleasure through the bond. No doubt Oratt had heard their conversation, and their conversation pleased him. Everything about today was pleasing him, and she smiled herself, sending a burst of love through their bond. She knew she had only known him for about two months at most, but something inside her was screaming to her: _this is him, this is the one, this is the man you need to marry!_

And if by her marrying him she kept him here, well...a deeper, more lasting love would form in time. She could see he had something she needed, and she had something that he needed...to quote a phrase, it was only logical for them to marry.

The paperwork was more tedious than they anticipated, but they got through it. Ricky, Lucy's lawyer friend, arrived a few minutes after they were in Mrs. Monroe's office. They eventually got the license, and at the ceremony, it would be signed.

And now Desiree and Lucy left, because Lucy insisted on taking Desiree to get her hair done. Desiree was never extremely enthusiastic about girly things, but Lucy said it would do her good.

"You look stunning, honey, but I think we can make you look killer."

So an hour later, Desiree emerged from the hair salon, her scalp still stinging from the hairdresser's work. But she did admit to herself that the cascade of shiny curls down her back did look nice, and she felt Oratt would find them appealing. He always seemed to like running his hands through her long hair, and oftentimes, he would wind a curl or two around his finger, as if he found them fascinating.

Finally, the time for their court appearance arrived, and she walked with Lucy back to the courthouse, her heart pounding harder this time with nervous excitement. Not many people had been invited, only her friend Judith, Lucy's brother Arturo and his wife and child, Ricky the lawyer, Suzanne, who was back from vacation, and Lucy's mother Mina, and Sorak, her quasi-boyfriend. Desiree was looking forward to meeting Arturo and Mina, and seeing Sorak again. The aide had wanted to stand with Oratt as the second witness, but Earth law at the moment required two human adults to be the witnesses, so Ricky was going to sign the papers. Still, Desiree didn't see why Sorak couldn't be Oratt's best man in spirit.

She stood in front of the doorway and waited as Lucy went inside, and after ten nervous minutes, the door was opened for her by Sorak, and Sorak walked her down the aisle.

"All of Vulcan appreciates your service, T'Sai," he whispered to her as they moved down the long aisle. Oratt was waiting for her in front of the judge's stand, and she flashed him a reassuring smile and sent another pulse of love through the bond. He was wearing the diplomatic robes of his people, the kind she saw Soval and Sorak wear. He looked very alien in this environment, but still managed to fit in somehow. She could feel him pulsating with excitement and purpose, and it made her heart swell with affection and pride.

"I'm marrying the man I love," she breathed back. "Service has nothing to do with it. When you love, you serve without question, without complaint, because that person is worth it."

Sorak smiled ever so slightly. "Wise words, young one. How are you feeling?"

"Nervous, but excited. I know this is what I was meant to do. I'm sure of it."

"Two twinned souls," he whispered, almost to himself. "Actually, I was referring to your baby."

"Healthy. No problems so far, except for the normal morning sickness and tiredness and all that wonderful stuff."

"Morning sickness?"

"Trust me," she whispered. "You don't want to know the details right now."

He nodded, and they continued. They were about halfway down the aisle now, and she looked around at the other guests. There were a few people in the crowd she did not recognize: a Middle Eastern woman with dark hair and exotic, queenly features; by her side, an older Vulcan with light silver hair and a calm expression; a petite blonde woman with wide evergreen eyes, who looked overjoyed when she smiled at Desiree; by her side, an older Vulcan with bright blue eyes and a friendly face. She smiled at all of them and glanced over to the other side of the courtroom, and her smile faltered.

Ronald stood up and blocked their way, stepping closer to Desiree than what she thought was comfortable.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing, Desiree?" he hissed. Delilah was still in her seat, seemingly torn between tears and a frown. "Did these Vulcan bastards pressure you into doing this? I've looked this guy up," he gestured behind him at Oratt, who looked about ready to throw Ronald bodily from the room, "and he's got a lot of money. I would think you would do better than to marry for riches, but if that's what you want..."

"Who invited you to these proceedings?" she growled back. "Who I marry, who I _love_, Ronald, is none of your business. As far as I'm concerned, you are a stranger, a bastard who does not deserve to be in the presence of my friends, or me, or my mother for that matter."

His expression turned pallid with anger, but Sorak stepped forward, his expression grim, his height and demeanor imposing. Ronald stepped out of the way and sat back down with Delilah, and Desiree ignored her mother as she passed them by.

Oratt held out his two fingers for her to take, and she left Sorak's side and went to him, returning the gesture with affection and eagerness. Oratt threw a dirty glare at Ronald, but then focused on her again.

"We gather here today to witness a...most unusual union," the Justice of the Peace began. Desiree smiled wryly.

The old judge rambled on about inter-species relations and the uniqueness of this moment, but Desiree glanced over at the women she didn't know, and noticed that the dark-haired woman had wrapped her fingers around the younger of the two Vulcans, and the friendly Vulcan, the older one, was slowly stroking the blonde woman's fingers with his own. She grinned at them and turned back to Oratt.

The ceremony continued, and she vowed her heart to him, and he repeated the words back to her, feeding his devotion through the bond all the while. It made the vows so much more meaningful.

"Do you have the rings?" the judge asked.

Desiree pulled a small black box from her pocket, and Oratt withdrew a similar box from his robes.

"With this ring," Desiree began, slowly repeating the words the judge fed to her, "I solemnly vow to love and cherish you, for better or for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health," she winked at him, thinking of _pon farr_, "in good times and in bad, for as long as we both shall live." She slid the ring onto his finger.

And Oratt repeated those vows, sliding a diamond and sapphire ring onto her finger. She could hear sniffling behind her and turned once the vow was completed, and she saw her mother's face half-concealed by a tissue, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes gleaming with happiness. Ronald sat beside her, looking shocked and appalled at the proceedings, and Desiree fought the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him.

They signed the marriage license and the judge handed it to them with reverence.

"Then by the power vested in me by the North American district of United Earth...I now pronounce you man and wife. Sir, you may kiss the bride."

She giggled as he turned to her with the most endearing expression of confusion, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him gently, only for about ten seconds or so. Lucy, the women she didn't know, Arturo, Suzanne, Mina, Judith and Ricky all clapped and hollered, but the Vulcans remained stoic, clapping politely.

His lips were warm and soft and spicy, and she was loathe to let him go, but she did, grinning up at him. She was tempted to throw her arms around him, but she refrained, choosing instead to relish the look of amazement and joy in his eyes.

"You're mine now, Oratt," she murmured to him as the applause continued. "You can't escape me now."

"I would not wish to," he whispered in reply, and he held up his fingers. "_Telsu_, and wife of my body, attend."

She shook her head at him and let their fingers be joined, and they walked down the aisle together, their fingers linked, their hearts beating in tandem.

…

Oratt lingered in the corner of the living room, as his Desiree was talking with Meskhenet, as the Middle Eastern woman was called, and Judith, who was apparently a friend of both Desiree and Meskhenet. They all had dance experience and were sharing stories, and Tawny, as the blonde woman was called, was engaged in a conversation with Lucy and Mina. The Vulcans were also engaged in conversation, and Ricky was getting acquainted with Sorak, and it seemed they were becoming fast allies.

Minister Kuvak disengaged himself from a circle of people and approached him, and Oratt bowed his head in solemn respect.

"Minister," he acknowledged, switching to the ritual Vulcan. "It is an honor to have you be at my wedding."

Kuvak nearly smiled. "No, Oratt, do not address me as such. In my eyes, we are now brethren, a small minority of Vulcans who have been fortunate enough to find a human wife. Ms. Beaumont seems like a most agreeable woman. She will be loyal to you, and to your clan."

Oratt nodded. "She is remarkable...she is more than I will ever deserve."

Kuvak nodded in agreement. "Yes, my Tawny is the same way...they are such eager creatures, are they not?"

The minister's ears turned slightly green, but Oratt nodded. "Yes, quite enthusiastic. I never would have guessed a year ago that I would be married to one such as her. If more of our people knew of them, their true nature..." He trailed off, leaving some things unspoken, as was the Vulcan way.

"Then they would be hunted down as prized possessions," Kuvak said, his eyes growing dark. "And I do not think that would bode well for human-Vulcan relations."

Kuvak sighed, his eyes lingering on Tawny, a distant expression on his face. "This hearing V'Las is calling...I have opposed it, but I am outnumbered. But I have spoken to others in the High Command, and they see no logical reason for calling this hearing. I was not brought to trial when I made Tawny my wife."

"They fear us," Oratt said quietly. "They fear my child, and I am not as well-placed as you. You, and your cousin, are of the house of T'Hya, but I am from a lower house. I am an easier target."

Kuvak tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. "Yes...even after centuries of logic and control, to think we would succumb to fear...do not think you are outnumbered, Oratt. I am at your side, as is L'Vek. Sorak is supporting you, and I believe Soval will also come to your aid. Even Sorak's sister V'Lar has heard of this and has told me she chooses to side with you. Not all of our people are so engrained in the old ways that they forget that change will inevitably occur."

Oratt sighed. "That is...reassuring to know. My first priority is the health and safety of my wife and child...and in order to provide for them, I need a job. I have plenty saved, but I fear what they might do if I lose this hearing and am brought to trial."

"You will not lose the hearing," Kuvak assured him. "Sokat is a logical man, and will see the logic of your position. No matter what some say, there is no shame in having an outsider for a wife. We are IDIC personified, Oratt, not a plague on our people. One day they will see that."


	12. Honeymoon

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and Strom, V'Lar and Sorak), Ahylysha, dinopoodle, maba7x, and jackiemack916 for reviewing! You are all wonderful!**_

_**A/N: The first half of the chapter is rated M. Don't like, don't read.**_

Oratt set down his bag on the wide, plush hotel bed, still confused about this ritual. He had not been able to access an Earth database since Desiree had told him they were going on what she called a "honeymoon". He was confused as to why a satellite would be made of a product manufactured by bees, but the human tendency for inaccuracy would most likely explain the name.

"Desiree," he said softly, a seed of doubt growing in his mind. Their bond had been unhelpful, because all he felt from her was amusement at his ignorance. "Why are we here? Please tell me, _telsu_."

She turned around and giggled darkly, unbuttoning her top and tossing it aside. "I'm going to take a shower. Wanna join me?"

He immediately acquiesced, eager to be with his wife in intimacy once more, but she had not answered his question. He thought momentarily that he might be overthinking it all, that perhaps she simply wanted to get away with him where they could be alone, without Lucy or Sorak or the High Command's prejudice to bother them.

He stripped down to nearly naked and followed her into the bathroom, where she turned the water on to very hot. She was still in her undergarments, and she eyed him, finally letting him feel what she felt through the bond. She was nearly overflowing with love and desire, and she was looking at him like he was a delicious piece of meat she intended to devour. He swallowed thickly as she slipped off one bra strap, then tinkered with the other. He was in agony watching her disrobe so slowly, and a growl erupted from his lips, but before he could step forward and tear her bra off, she put the other strap back on and stared at him in defiance.

He stepped back, understanding the rules of the game, and she smiled at him with pure wickedness.

It was a different kind of torture to watch her disrobe so slowly, so...sensuously, and he could do nothing but watch. She slid her hands up and down her body as if in invitation, and he found himself realizing that the pregnancy was affecting her body. Her waist was thicker, her breasts were larger...her entire body looked ripe and juicy, like a fresh plum still warm from the sun. His mouth was watering, and he saw too many blank spots on her creamy, soft skin. Slowly, minute by minute, she allowed him to see more of her skin, until finally, after fifteen minutes of agonizing torture, she was bare before him.

The water was plenty hot at this point, and she beckoned him with a crooked finger, smiling devilishly at him in want. He tore off his underwear and followed her into the shower, and she giggled as he pinned her to the cold tile wall.

"You have tempted me too well, my _wife_," he growled, knowing that by Earth standards, she was married to him. "And now I will tempt you."

She grinned lustily as he trailed his fingers down to her opening, and he teased her, tracing the tips of his fingers around her womanhood, rubbing her hardening nub, but not giving her all that she wanted. The lusty look became more desperate, and she moaned, bucking into his hand, silently asking for him to give her more.

"Ask nicely, my wife," he purred in her ear, licking its rounded shell. She groaned.

"You know how much I love it when you please me this way, Oratt," she pleaded, her voice no more than a whimper. "Please..._please_..."

Still, he did not give in, but rather focused on sending pleasure through their bond. She was panting now, but his fingers did not slip into her. He lightly pinched her throbbing bud and pressed his thumb to it, and she whimpered again, leaning her head back into the cold tile.

"Oratt," she whispered, her voice echoing between the wet tiles. "Oratt, my sweet...please..."

He smirked and licked at her neck, paying close attention to her breathing, and he knew she was getting close. "Go on," he cooed, biting lightly at her neck. She moaned and clenched in readiness, the sign he had been waiting for, and he finally gave her what she desired and was rewarded with a gush of thick moisture, her essence. He smirked fully, almost smiled at her, his beautiful wife, and he thrust his fingers harder into her soaked center, making her cry out.

The second time, he was relentless, pumping his fingers hard into her tight heat, biting her neck with force he had not used since the fever. She howled his name, writhing in pleasure beneath him, and he chuckled into her neck, licking at the new wound he had etched into her creamy skin. With one last pump of his hand, she came again for him, violently, until she was quivering in his arms.

She panted, cupping his cheek with a trembling hand, and she smiled wickedly at him. "You're good," she praised him, kissing his lips. "You're very good..."

He smirked and thrust his fingers in again, and she moaned. He did not regret the waste of water; it was worth it just to hear his wife mewl in ecstasy. It was worth it to give his wife so much bliss.

"I intend to become a master at this," he breathed, and she whimpered, giving herself over to his whims.

…

Her head rested on his chest, and she sighed as his chest rose and fell with every breath. She lazily traced the muscles of his chest and frowned; she had noticed that he was slimmer and more toned than before, but she hadn't brought it up. He was stronger than the last time they had made love like this, and lasted even longer. She sighed into his caresses and closed her eyes, weary from his perfect attentions.

"Are you content, Desiree?" he murmured quietly, stroking her hair over and over again. She found it soothing.

"Yes," she replied earnestly, a smile breaking out over her lips. "I am more than content with you, sweetheart." She raised her head slightly and kissed his chest lightly where she had been resting her head. "You're wonderful, inside and out."

He breathed out slowly and pulled her closer, and she nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his masculine scent. "And you always smell so good, musky almost...reminds me of home."

Oratt traced two fingers down her back, and she gasped, arching her back toward him and hissing softly as the apex of her thighs throbbed in want.

"A few more rounds?" she whispered, some of her energy returning. His eyes brightened with desire, and she slid down his body, licking at his manhood, relishing his gasp.

"Desiree," he groaned, and she knew she was the only person who had ever exposed him to this. He was warm and thick, _long_, and his length pulsated as she took him and worked at him. He moaned, and she paused when he asked her to stop.

She released him and looked up at him, confused. Unshed tears were gleaming in his eyes, and his lips were parted in complete shock.

"I do not deserve such intimacy," he whispered. "Desiree...oh, my dearest Desiree..."

She smiled soberly down at him. "Did you like it?"

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "It was exquisite..."

She smirked and took him in her mouth again, and he cried out, gripping her hair with abandon.

"_K'diwa!_" he cried, tugging at her hair. "I don't deserve...I..." He took a deep breath. "_I love you_," he breathed, so softly that she almost didn't hear him. A few tears welled up in her eyes, and she took him even harder, using every bit of information she knew on this act to her advantage; she could tell he was worth hard not to arch into her lascivious caresses, fighting the urge to thrust, and she moaned in victory as he released for her.

He looked utterly ashamed of himself, shocked beyond reason as she let him go and raised her head, but she smirked as she swallowed it and licked her lips.

"Desiree," he breathed, his eyes wide and dark. "Desiree, you could have spit it-"

"Too late," she purred, kissing him fervently. "You claim you're not a pastry," she continued, kissing up toward his ears. "You claim you're not desert." She licked at his ears, tracing her tongue ever so slowly up the shell. "But by heaven, you are _sweet_."

She sighed and kissed his neck. "And I love you too, Oratt...more than you know..."

He held her close the rest of the night, perhaps too stunned to do much else. But she didn't mind. It was nice to give and not get anything in return, because it made these acts special, something to be treasured. But she was truly looking forward to pleasing him like that again. Never had her heart felt so torn as when he begged her to stop, because he felt unworthy of such an act. She loved him, deeply, unlike any love she had experienced before, and she smiled as she held her beloved, her husband, close to her body until the dawn crept through the window.

…

There were days when V'Las hated his contemplative side.

It was days like this that made him even more fervent for his cause, and more fearful that others would learn his secrets. He was pacing frantically in his office, a gnawing realization growing in him.

What was it with these Earth women? That Meskhenet woman had easily taken on L'Vek's fever and come out the other side more eager for him than ever...Tawny didn't cave in to his intimidation, and he had witnessed the depth of her devotion to Kuvak firsthand. He had had to meditate that jealousy away for a week...and now this Desiree was pregnant with Oratt's child, and when V'Las had applied pressure, she was more devoted to Oratt than ever! She had married him, used a loophole in the Earth legal system to give him protection! What in the name of Surak was going on?

He stopped and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was not how he imagined his plans going. He followed his orders, lest he lose his life, but this was getting ridiculous! And Tarmik reported that Sorak, Soval's aide, had his sights set on a human woman, a widow who's daughter had been attacked by that Koss clone. And that woman too...Tarmik had been keeping tabs on her, and yet another Vulcan male had fallen to the whims of these humans. He wanted answers, but his superiors would give nothing. He wanted to see where this fit in the grand scheme of things, and yet nothing presented itself to him.

He frowned at the picture of Desiree sitting on his desk, and he resolved to tighten the noose. He hadn't been able to get this dilemma out of his mind, nor her elegant face..._since when had human faces been elegant? _

_Since so many women offered devotion and love to Vulcan males_, his darker side replied with a mocking laugh. _So you want the woman...one time should be enough to rid yourself of this desire, right? Once for novelty's sake...and then to the dogs with her..._

Yes, he thought to himself, once should be enough...He smiled down at her picture, wondering what she smelled like, what her skin tasted like...what her flesh would feel like beneath his fingertips. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, mindful that he had a meeting with the High Command in an hour. He could not lose control of himself...

"Once will suffice," he whispered to himself, knowing deep down that it was the boldest lie he had ever told himself.

…

Sokat glanced over the charges against Oratt, and he frowned in confusion. He wasn't quite sure why the man was being tried; after all, he hadn't done anything wrong. There was no crime in taking a human wife, or having a child by a human. He wasn't the fondest of humans, but they had their moments of logic, though few and far between. They somehow managed to survive together, thrive on illogic, and he admitted quietly to himself that it fascinated him. He would never take a human wife, though. They were too emotionally unstable...to illogical for his tastes...

His thoughts drifted to his T'Het, and he sighed deeply, closing his eyes. Logically sound, calm and serene as the windless desert, she had been a good mate for him, had been kind to him. They did not spend a lot of time together, but the time they had shared he cherished deep in his soul. If he were honest, his logical side gave way to the fact that he missed her terribly.

But she was gone, and there was no logic in dwelling on the past. He concentrated once more on his task and pushed his late wife out of his thoughts.

He was no supporter of Oratt by any stretch of the imagination, but as he read the report, he found himself irked on the man's behalf. Why was the High Command bothering to prosecute him over this? This was ludicrous, highly illogical!

He sighed, realizing the power he had in this case. He could defy the Council of Physicians and the High Command, and rule in Oratt's favor. Or he could let the High Command deal with the doctor, as they seemed all too eager to do. Why he did not know. It was none of his concern, really.

He sighed again and set down to meditate on the problem. The hearing was in a week, and he would have to be ready.


	13. Flies and Vinegar

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and your host of characters), Ahlysha, Just a Crazy-Man, and the anon reviewer for reviewing! But thank you especially to Fameanon for helping me write this chapter.**_

Desiree sat down on Oratt's couch, reading a novel she had brought with her. The gravity and thin air was not doing her any favors, and she made sure she had a clear path to the bathroom should she need it. The daylight outside was slowly dimming as night came; Oratt was working with Suzanne and Ricky at his office, and she had begged off to go get some rest. This entire business was giving her a headache, but she leaned back into the couch, drawing on Oratt's strength to calm her. She smiled at the sensation, relishing the bond, their marriage, their love...Oratt was a strong pillar in these crazy times, drawing on every ounce of his logic to win this trial for her, and for their child.

She frowned as she felt eyes on her, and she put down the PADD, tensing, ready to strike.

"You must be Desiree," a nasally, honey-sweet voice purred. "I thought Oratt would be here. Have I disturbed you?" He paused. "I'm Administrator V'Las."

Desiree leaped to her feet and spun around, glaring at him, fear making her heart pound faster. "How did you get in here?" She paused. "And how do you know my name?"

He smirked at her, and she thought it was a disturbing sight. She looked around for a weapon, and it was only after she picked up a thin, decorative letter-opener on a shelf did she remember that Oratt could probably help her, and was more equipped to fight any intruders than she. But he called himself administrator...he had a title, and probably power. Still, she sent out an alarm, knowing he would feel her panic and would probably come immediately.

"Answer me," she demanded, her voice a low growl.

His blue eyes softened. "I came in through the door," he said benignly. "I'm the head of the High Command, Desiree. I know you and your name because it's my business to know who you are." He paused, pursing his lips. "You can put down the letter opener, Ms. Beaumont. We are not savages on Vulcan."

His nasal voice became soft, almost sing-song, and he offered his hand for her to shake. "I've come to talk to you," he said with a grin, "not to harm your person. Besides, my guard is outside the door, if you attack me. I do not want to think what might happen should you chose to do so."

"So you didn't think to knock?" she asked, not daring to put down the letter-opener. Not yet, anyway. "Or are administrators above such things?"

He chuckled softly, and she took another step back. "I didn't want to disturb your reading, Ms. Beaumont."

She nodded. "Ok..." She lowered her weapon, but did not let go of it. "So you're the one who called my husband in on this trumped-up charge? Or am I blaming the wrong person?"

If he was the person responsible for this, she would be hard-pressed not to slap him. She knew that wasn't the best answer, but she was angry with the planet, angry with whoever had charged Oratt, angry at Vulcan's bureaucratic and prejudiced government.

"I'm the administrator, Ms. Beaumont." He shrugged. "I'm a cog in the wheel of the things going on with your husband. But...I do have the ability to make it go away." His voice was a low purr, and moved toward her. "I do have that kind of power, if you want to calm down and listen to my...deal."

He motioned for her to relax. "And put that thing down, Ms. Beaumont, I don't know what you think it would do, or you could do, considering you're human and I'm Vulcan." He approached her again, taking a seat next to her on the couch. "Do you know it's custom to offer a guest in your home water?"

"I didn't invite you," she hissed. "And this isn't exactly my home yet. But if you want water..."

She went to the kitchen area and poured him a small glass, remembering Oratt's briefing on resources on the flight over here. She automatically glanced around for a refrigerator or ice dispenser, then smirked to herself. No ice here.

She gave him wide berth, then reached out and handed him the water. "There's your damn custom." She still had the weapon in her hand. "You said you had a deal...but I feel I probably won't like it."

She sat back down on the couch as far away from him as she could sit. He stood up and raised his hands in a universal sign of non-aggression.

"My, my, Ms. Beaumont, your anger is most unappealing. I have no need to speak with you if you are going to act like..." he smirked, "well, an emotional human. So if you want to be a more accommodating, not to mention civilized...then contact me."

He smirked and flounced out, shutting the door behind him.

Desiree stood there stunned for several moments, and she realized her error. This man had power, and she had just insulted him. That was not a smart move, even on Vulcan. Probably especially on Vulcan, where revenge could be explained away as logical. Living with Oratt, having the base bond with him, had exposed her to unique insights into the bureaucratic operations of the Vulcan High Command and all the other organizations it controlled.

Desiree ran to the door. "Hold up!" she called, and he turned around and smirked slightly at her. She relaxed and threw away the letter opener. "There...now will you please come back and talk to me? If you have something that can help my husband, I'm willing to at least give it a listen."

She regretted the words, but she felt she may have just made things worse for Oratt, if she didn't act now. "I'm sorry for overreacting," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "You scared me, and you know how pregnant women are...hormonal and all...you caught me at a bad time. Please, come back inside, and let's talk."

V'Las turned toward her and smirked. "How very civilized of you, Ms. Beaumont. But no. We don't run things in government on the schedule of your pregnancy." He smiled ever so slightly, and she was reminded of a viper.

"I'm free, tomorrow," he continued, stepping forward and handing her slip of paper. "That's my address, after 0900. I'd keep this meeting between you and I."

He turned and walked out the gate without another word.

Desiree stared down at the paper in her hand, and decided to go. This was partially her fault, and if she could do anything to help Oratt, even deal with that administrator, she would do it.

…

Oratt and his lawyers were at his office when a half a dozen Vulcan guards entered. The lead captain gave him a cold nod.

"We have come to take you into custody, doctor." He handed the lawyers a PADD, and one of them, a Vulcan by the name of Ferik, read it aloud, and Ricky looked over the man's shoulder. It was a search warrant of Oratt's office, personal and professional files, and an order to take him into custody for harboring information on melders, the V'tosh ka'tur, and an underground system in place to gain the V'tosh false identification to get them off-planet.

"Come with us, doctor," the captain said firmly, placing a rough hand on Oratt's shoulder.

Oratt looked at his lawyers. "Tell my wife where I have gone, and tell her not to worry. There is no merit to any of these charges."

Suzanne nodded to him, and he allowed himself to be taken away. He sent Desiree a reassuring burst of his devotion, and reassurance that this was nothing, that he would most likely be released by the end of the night or sometime in the morning. There had to be a mistake, or else the High Command was far more corrupt than he originally thought.

He sighed and allowed himself to be processed and led to a cell, and he spent the night in meditation, wishing (however illogical the action might have been) that Desiree was here with him, in his arms.

…

She bit her lip, feeling queasy as she rang the doorchime to his home, and she waited for an answer. Oratt had been taken to prison, and they wouldn't let her see him, and she was ready to storm into the High Command and into the Council of Physicians and punch each and every Vulcan in the entire damn building. Fury blazed through her blood, but she knew she had to calm down if this was going to work. Her anger last time had probably made things worse for Oratt, and she had to attract the flies with honey, not with vinegar. She snorted. _More like leeches, the damn lot of them._

So she swallowed the anger and put on a smile, trying to look pleasant for Oratt's sake. This was getting far too out of hand...she looked down at her stomach and placed a hand over it. _All for you, honey,_ she whispered in her mind to her baby. _All for you...I bet you'll look like your daddy...we'll get him out of prison, you'll see. You'll get a daddy, I promise._

She looked up and plastered a pleasant expression on her face as the door opened. A somber looking young vulcan man opened the door, and he guided her into a large office with a huge wooden desk, and purple tapestries hung all over the walls. The Vulcan shut the doors behind Desiree, leaving in there alone.

A small animal, something that looked like a saber-toothed tiger, or perhaps a tiny fanged brown bear, padded over to her, mewling softly. It put its paws on her knee, looking up into her eyes with glowing yellow irises, and she smiled softly, leaning down to touch it.

"Now I-chan, that is not very mannerly," a nasal voice scolded playfully, and V'Las walked in with an arm full of PADDs. He snapped his fingers and the animal turned away, padding toward him. "Excuse my pet, Ms. Beaumont," he said kindly. He picked up a small glass of water, placing the PADDs on his desk.

"Welcome to my home," the administrator said politely, handing her the water. "It's not much. I have a bigger estate in Raal where my family comes from, but..." He shrugged. "It is, as your people say, home away from home. The trip over was uneventful, I trust? No one bothered you?"

"No, not at all," she said with a soft smile. She looked back down for the animal he had scolded. "Your pet is adorable, administrator," she commented, smiling at the saber-toothed tiger thing he had called I-chan. She sipped the water, actually very grateful for the liquid, as it felt like Satan's playground outside, even though the sun wasn't even very high in the sky.

He smiled ever so slightly and leaned against his desk. "I find him agreeable, and I'm glad you do too."

She smiled. "It's kind of odd seeing an animal like that. Sometimes it's easy to forget you're aliens." She paused, her heart wrenching in sudden fear. "I don't mean it as an insult by any means...it's just so strange being on a different world. Maybe I've become accustomed to seeing Vulcans on the news channels and at Inter-species Exchanges and such...living with a Vulcan for three months...to be honest, I have _no_ idea what I'm talking about...I'm sorry for rambling."

She was angry, to be sure, but she was also very frightened. She had no idea what sort of power V'Las wielded, and the efforts of trying to control her anger and fear, come up with some sort of valid points to get Oratt freed and avoid letting her mouth run were all making it hard to think clearly. She shut up, afraid he would take insult, but he didn't seem offended at all. His eyes brightened, and he pushed himself off the desk and gestured to a plush-looking armchair near the window.

"Please Ms. Beaumont, have a seat and relax. We're friends here. Allow me to get you some refreshment." He paused, smiling to himself. "Your earth ambassador gifted me with something I think you'll enjoy. An ice maker." He pressed a button on his desk and spoke in what she now recognized as Vulcan, then turned to her with a slight smile and bright eyes. "Refreshments are on the way," he explained.

She fought the urge to shiver as his eyes raked over her body. "How is your pregnancy going, Ms. Beaumont? You look radiant."

She smiled wanly. "I'm doing all right...I'll spare you the details...human pregnancy, at least the first three months of it, is most definitely not glamorous." She dropped her gaze to her stomach and put her hand over it again, and she noticed in her peripheral vision that his eyes were focused on her stomach as well. "But I'm doing all right."

She leaned back in the chair and looked at him straight in the eye. "Your planet is harsher than I expected," she said softly, then decided to throw him a compliment. "No wonder your species is so strong." She even lowered her voice and let it take on a gravelly undertone, making her words more...sensual than she meant them.

V'Las smiled. "Yes, the harshness of Vulcan is character building to say the least." A Vulcan entered with a wheeled tray, and he pushed it to where they were seated, bowed and left. "There, Ms. Beaumont: iced tea, and fruit." He picked up one of the glasses of tea and handed it to her, and then took one for himself, taking a sip immediately.

He let out a groan, and she looked over to him. "I've developed a fondness for your Earth teas ever since Soval sent me a sample pack three years ago," he commented, his voice light and unconcerned. Desiree took a sip of her tea, and she admitted to herself that the tea was good. The liquids were a welcome relief from the searing heat of this planet, a soothing balm to her already exhausted body.

"Please eat, Ms. Beaumont," he said, his voice almost a purr. "You need your strength. It's rather unfortunate that you should arrive in the dry season."

She smiled and accepted his offer, eating a few pieces of fruit. She bit into one and unintentionally let out a moan, closing her eyes and eating all of it. "This," she breathed, knowing his eyes were on her, "this is what I have been craving for two weeks now...I've been eating pineapple, but it's not the same..." She shook her head, not sure why this was happening this way, why she was craving a Vulcan fruit she had never tried before. She looked to him and saw that his eyes were dark.

"It's good," she praised with a soft smile, taking another piece of that fruit and secretly trembling in delight at its flavor. She didn't want to talk that much to V'Las, and was waiting for him to make his point, to tell her more about this deal of his.

"Don't deprive yourself of it, then, Ms. Beaumont...can I call you Desiree?" He offered her what looked like a warm smile. "I'm sure you are enjoying the fruit, you have a Vulcan child growing in you. Our people require different nutrients, so your body will crave things you don't understand." He chuckled softly. "You might also be picking up the desires of your husband. I have been told Oratt enjoys fruit.

He picked up another one of the pieces he had eaten and held it out to Desiree. "Open up, you haven't tried this one, and it is the best of the bunch." He leaned over, his jaw relaxing in indication of how he wanted her mouth to open. "It's a Romulan delicacy, a gift from an ambassador."

She hesitated, then obeyed, letting him slip the fruit onto her tongue. She chewed and swallowed, then closed her eyes. She hated to admit it, but it was the most delicious of the bunch. She took another big piece, eating half of it, and then popping the rest into her mouth. She discreetly licked her fingers clean and turned to him in earnest. "Romulan? I've never heard of that species."

He chuckled slightly and handed her more fruit, which she took with a smile. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about."

She took another sip of iced tea, grateful for the coolness, and then she spoke. "So...this deal you were talking about...firstly, I need to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That was very rude of me, and I am very sorry if I offended you. There's no excuse for the way I acted, really," she offered, a smile on her lips; she was grateful she had taken so many acting classes, and she forced herself to feel genuine embarrassment to make her words sound more convincing. She figured a small dose of fear wouldn't hurt, and she didn't have to fake the fear. No matter his friendly nature, she was still very nervous about this encounter.

He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Don't concern yourself about yesterday, Desiree," he said with a soft smile. "That is yesterday."

He frowned suddenly. "I heard about the extra charges. I grieve with thee, Desiree...I'm sure you'd like to see him." He stood and walked over to his desk, and taking out a PADD, he quickly typed on it. He put something on a data rod, then returned to her and handed it to her.

"There, a small gesture on my part. That is permission to see your husband tonight, for an hour. I'm sorry I can't do more at the moment, but this new arrest has changed the face of his prosecution, and put off his hearing for another week at least. Of course, you'll want to use that right away. It expires in three hours." He shrugged. "It's the way the law works to prevent forgery." He smirked and sat back down in his chair. "But now that you know where I live...and we do have that deal to speak of...but there is plenty of time for that later, Ms. Beaumont, as I said. Thanks to yesterday's arrest, it's lengthened the process."

He stood and offered her his hand, and she took it after a split-second's hesitation. "I hope you enjoy your time with your husband." He waved her out, dismissing her."Oh, and feel free to take some of that fruit with you. Prison rations, I'm sure, are not very appetizing. He'll probably appreciate the gesture."

She nodded and took the container of fruit he handed to her, but he did not release her gaze for a few moments.

"Don't worry, Desiree," he whispered softly, his voice almost a purr. The hairs on the back of her head stood on end. "Everything will work out in the end, I'm sure of it."

She nodded, offering her a smile she didn't feel in the slightest. "Thank you very much for the fruit and the tea. It was lovely."

He smirked and chuckled. "Ah, Ms. Beaumont, you are charming when you use your manners. Good day."

He sat back down at his desk, and she turned and left the house as fast as she could without drawing undue attention to herself.


	14. Flytrap

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon and her host of characters, maba7x, T'Sara and Ahlysha for reviewing! Thank you all so much!**_

Desiree clutched the container of fruit tightly in her hand as the guard led her to Oratt's cell. The prison was cold and uncomfortable-looking, but she was grateful that the doors were all opaque, so she didn't have to see the other prisoners. She wondered briefly if there were any other prisoners in here who didn't deserve punishment, like her Oratt. The guard was stoic and silent, with cold gray eyes and a slightly hooked nose. He had leered at her when she had handed him the data crystal V'Las had given her, but once it was confirmed that she had the authorization to visit him, the guard's expression had turned cold. Though, she thought she saw him checking her out once or twice. She didn't let her thoughts dwell on it.

She bit her lip as the man stepped aside and let her enter the small room. Oratt was meditating on the bed, but when she entered, he looked up and approached her, stopping short of embracing her. She closed the gap between them and gave him a tight embrace, and she buried her nose in his shirt and breathed in his scent, trying to swallow back all her fears and worries that she wanted to share with him. Somehow she knew he didn't need her fear, and she tried her hardest to let it go, focusing on his musky scent, the scent of home.

"Oratt," she breathed. "Sweetheart...I'm so sorry..." She swallowed back her tears and cupped his cheek. "I know you're not guilty, honey bun. I know it..."

Oratt caressed her cheek and set the fruit aside on his bed as he wrapped himself around her in a warm embrace. "Of course I am not guilty, my wife." He leaned down and inhaled the scent of her neck, and she closed her eyes and sheathed her fingers through his silver hair. "How did you manage to be able to visit me?"

His thumbs stroked over her cheeks, and she felt a surge of calm and reassurance as he held her. She leaned into him, pressing herself to him, and she kissed his lips gently, tenderly, sending her love and her relief at seeing him alive and well through the bond. She thought she heard him growl and purr in pleasure.

She sighed and giggled nervously. "Administrator V'Las, of all people, paid me a visit last night," she said quickly. "I...I threatened him with a letter-opener...he freaked me out." She conveyed what she meant through the bond. He nodded.

"So he said he had a deal for me, to get you out of the hearing," she continued, "but I was, apparently, too rude, and he left. I tried being nice, and he said to meet him at his home this morning. I went...he gave me fruit...and he suggested I bring you some." She sighed and kissed his lips again. "He still hasn't told me more about this deal."

She could feel his passion growing with every kiss, but when she spoke those words, he pulled away and stared at her in earnest solemnity. "My wife, do not return to him. No deal he could offer you would be...I am innocent, Desiree, and you do not need to make any sort of bargain with him. I am innocent," he repeated, kissing her full on the lips, stroking her face almost as if he had not touched her in years rather than the few hours they had been parted. She heard his voice in her head, and she moaned, leaning further into his caresses.

_You have made me a depraved man who hungers with fever all the time, _he purred in her mind. _Be safe __my wife, if anything happened to you or our child my life would not be worth living._

She wondered briefly how she was able to hear him so clearly, and he smirked slightly into their kiss. _Our bond is strong...I could not live with myself if I were to lose the precious jewel I have found. When we are fully bonded, we need not be touching to hear each other's thoughts._

She returned his kisses and caresses, cupping his face and sending all her love through her touch, recalling images of all the times they had made love, all the times they had pleased each other, every sound, every sensation...as if he could see those images. She pressed against him, nipping at his lips and growling slightly, wanting to bite him.

"Is this room equipped with cameras?" she whispered, suddenly self-conscious.

"Yes," he replied, and she stiffened. "But do not worry. The warden is probably disgusted with this display."

"But if it adds to your problems...they can't punish you for kissing your wife, that's illogical and stupid." She kissed him even harder, slowing her pace, making every movement count.

Desiree moaned as his finger began rubbing against her, slipping ever so slightly into her, and she buried her face in his neck to mask the mewls of ecstasy spewing from her lips. She kissed his neck and nipped at his flesh, closing her eyes and memorizing the scent of him.

A buzzer interrupted their time, and she sighed as he withdrew his finger. She leaned into his chest despite the timer, and she scowled at the voice of the guard standing behind her.

"Visiting time is over. Separate and move toward the door."

She broke away from him, but after he removed his hands from her body, and even he hesitated for a moment before stepping away from her. "Be strong, _ashaya_...the truth will prevail."

She nodded resolutely and blew him one last kiss before following the guard. She could feel his eyes on her, and she wanted to run back to him, kiss him until his lips were blue, perhaps just simply fall asleep in his arms. She had the sudden thought that she might be able to gain more time with Oratt, if she asked nicely...

She made up her mind and decided to go back to V'Las. There was no shame in at least hearing this deal. Maybe it was something she could do.

…

Desiree closed her eyes and silently asked Oratt to forgive her, but she knocked on the door to V'Las house and plastered a smile on her face. It had been three days since they had parted in the prison, and she was getting antsy knowing he was cooped up. She wasn't sure why, but she felt trapped, perhaps as he did, and she made it a point to send him love and affection every day, to try and make this easier for him.

The same young man answered as before; soon she was sitting in his office, and V'Las was staring at her with those piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in a simple robe that even let a little gray chest hair show, and she swallowed down her fear. She was here for Oratt...she was here for her beloved. It was later in the evening, apparently the only time he could see her, and already the sun was dipping toward the horizon. It would be dinnertime soon...but Desiree wasn't hungry.

"Thank you for letting me see my husband," she said softly, smiling at him. "I'm just glad he's ok."

She breathed in deeply and waited for V'Las to make the next move. He smirked when she said her husband was ok, and she sighed. "And he enjoyed the fruit...I think. I'm sure he appreciated it though. Thank you very much," she continued, wondering why he wasn't speaking.

Finally, he leaned forward across the desk. "I'm glad you enjoyed your time with your husband...and the fruit was the least I could do," he murmured, pouring himself a glass of tea, and then one for her. "You'll pardon my state of undress. I wasn't sure you'd return and talk to me."

She swallowed, wondering if he had seen the security footage from Oratt's cell, what her husband was becoming fond of doing. "Thank you," she breathed as he handed her the tea, and she took a wary sip.

He smirked and followed suit, and once he set aside the tea, he fixed her with his piercing blue stare again. "It is quite lovely to talk to you when you have good manners." His hand drifted down his body to his chest, and he unconsciously rubbed his chest.

Desiree cringed at the sight of him rubbing his hairy chest. There was something that just felt...dirty about it, and being followed up by the backhanded complement, was almost more creepy than she could bear. "Um, thank you," she said, not really knowing what to say. "So..." She swallowed some more of the tea. "I came back to talk to you about this deal you have in mind."

V'Las ran his finger through his chest hair and cocked his head, "Please, sit. We aren't in a rush, Desiree, with all that has transpired and the extra charges leveled against him...it's become more difficult." He walked from around his mammoth desk and paced the carpet barefoot until she sat down.

"Quite a nasty business with your husband's charges...who would have known he was harboring such information?"

She bit her lip and could not help but growl an insult under her breath. "My husband is innocent, you pompous little twat."

"I'm sorry," he said, turning toward her in full, his expression bright with ire. "I didn't quite catch that, what did you say?" He chuckled slightly. "And please bear in mind that my hearing is much better than yours."

Desiree flopped down in her seat, swearing at herself. _Desiree, you idiot! Damn it all to hell!_ She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "I'm...sorry, it's just this heat, and this pregnancy, and..." She looked up at him and noticed that he seemed to be circling closer to her, his fingers still mingling with the tuft of gray hair on his chest. "I'm sorry," she said again earnestly. "But I would like to know what can be done to help my husband, because I know he is innocent."

V'Las walked over and sat down next to her. "Your devotion is admirable, Desiree. However, speaking to me as if I was some common human dog will accomplish nothing." He placed his hand on her knee. "I have the power to help you, and yet twice now you've kicked and hit me with your words."

She felt tears sting her eyes, and she took a deep breath. "Ok, administrator...my husband is in jail, I am alone on a planet that is not my home and I am dealing with a pregnancy that is leaving me exhausted. And now I feel I may never see him again. Sir, I am _scared_," she admitted finally, and he squeezed her knee. "And when humans get scared, they say things they don't mean. So please...I'm _begging_ you...forgive me."

His expression turned even more sympathetic, and he frowned slightly at her. "Why are you afraid, Desiree?" he cooed, stroking his thumb across her thigh. "There is no need to be afraid. You're a guest on our world, and we'll make sure you're taken care of."

She broke down, tears running freely down her cheeks, and she couldn't hold in her emotions anymore. She wished it was Oratt sitting across from her, comforting her, ready to accept her into his warm embrace.

"I'm not unsympathetic, Desiree," V'Las whispered. "We may control our emotions, but that does not mean we aren't sensitive to them...surely Oratt explained that."

Desiree was exhausted mentally and physically. She had no prior conditioning to get used to the higher gravity, and the air was so thin she felt light headed as she cried. She sobbed pathetically, ashamed of herself and her weakness, knowing she should have never come here. It wasn't until she felt his fingers at the back of her neck and his nose in her hair that she realized she was in his arms, that he was holding her to his chest. She could even feel his chest hair beneath his cheek.

She pulled away, but he held her fast, staring deeply into her eyes. "Now," he purred, "do you really think you can resist me? The full force of the Vulcan government? They answer to me, Desiree."

"Let me go," she croaked, stiffening in his arms.

He smirked and pulled her closer. "Calm yourself, woman," he growled, but a black leather glove squeezed his shoulder, and Desiree looked behind the administrator. An elegant and severe looking Vulcan man dressed all in black pulled V'Las from Desiree and sat him back down. Bright blue eyes looked at her and then V'Las. "Go, put your robes on. Your business here is concluded. She obviously does not want you, and now that I am here, she does not need your help." His voice was honey smooth, with a cosmopolitan crackle.

V'Las nodded and did not even dare to look at Desiree as he left, and the man folded his hand before him, "I hope he did not frighten you, T'Sai. I'm sure he did not mean to. He has poor people skills, but a singular talent for governing." The man smirked softly, then walked to the enormous desk and poured Desiree a glass of water. He handed it to her.

"Here, my dear, drink this. Your hydration level is terrible, your tears are as dust now."

She sniffed and drank obediently, and she saw his eyes on her. She wanted to vomit, and she wanted to get out of here. Whoever this man was, he had power over V'Las, who had power over Vulcan. This was most definitely not a man to insult.

He smiled at her. "Do not worry, T'Sai. I am sure this has all been an unpleasant nightmare. Give me some time and I will see to getting it sorted out."

He held out his hand, directing her to the door, and she followed him, resolving to go immediately to Ricky after she left this god-awful place. "What about my husband?" she asked softly, her voice no more than a croak. She immediately fell silent, not sure if anything could help Oratt now.

The man's eyes softened, and he smiled again at her. "I will see that Oratt is freed before the sun rises on another day, T'Sai," he whispered, placing a kind hand on her shoulder. "Go home and rest, and your husband will be with you soon."

"Thank you," she breathed, swallowing back more tears, and he turned to go back to the office.

"Wait!" she cried, and he turned back to her. "Who are you?"

He smirked slightly. "A friend, T'Sai. You need not know more." He paused and turned in full to her. "Your dedication to your husband is quite inspiring. How did he come to get such a beautiful woman as you?"

She smiled wryly. "A series of crazy events...thank you, sir."

He nodded once. "Good day, T'Sai." Within two seconds, he was out of sight again, and she walked back to Oratt's house as quickly as her feet could carry her in the remaining heat and harsh gravity of Vulcan.

_**A/N: Thank you again so much to Fameanon for helping me write this chapter! You rule, sweetheart!**_


	15. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon (and your host of characters), Ahlysha, maba7x and the anon reviewer for reviewing!**_

Desiree was frozen on the couch, counting down every minute until Oratt was brought home. She had been home for an hour now, her eyes glued to the door. In her head, she unintentionally replayed the moments in V'Las' office, where he had offered her food, where he had touched her without permission, where he had nearly had her trapped. She was exhausted from the heat and the gravity, and her pregnancy, as it progressed, was simply adding exhaustion to her worn-out state. She would have had very little chance of getting away from V'Las, if that Vulcan dressed in black hadn't come and saved her.

She laid a protective hand over her belly, tearing her eyes from the door and rubbing her hand against her stomach. Already, she could see a tiny swell, a bump where her baby was growing. She lifted her shirt to see it better and smiled down at the plump, rounded form of her abdomen. _I can see you already, honey, _she thought to her baby. _I can see you growing. We have a lot to be thankful for, you and I._

She jumped when she saw something move in the corner of her eye, and she saw her husband rushing toward her. She quickly stood, and he caught her in his arms, kissing her fiercely. The tears that had been building back up since the other Vulcan saved her were finally released, and she pulled back from their kiss.

"Oratt, sweetheart, I'm so sorry...I should have listened to you..."

His eyes darkened. "I felt your distress...did he touch you?" he growled.

"Tried to," she murmured. "I don't want to go near him ever again. Please...please forgive me..."

"There is nothing to forgive...but why wife, why did you go?"

She felt new tears build in her eyes. "I wanted to help you!" she exclaimed, biting back more tears, though they kept coming. "I thought there was some legal loophole he was going to tell me about...but I wasn't about to put out, just to save you!"

He frowned, and she cupped his cheek, feeding the meaning through her touch. His eyes darkened further, and he pulled her as close as she could fit against him while they were fully clothed. He lowered his head and inhaled the scent of her hair, and she breathed his musky scent in as well, finally feeling like the worst might be behind them.

"How did you escape him?"

"Another Vulcan stopped him...he had blue eyes and was dressed in black...he said he would see about getting you released...he made good on his word."

Oratt nodded into her hair and inhaled again. "Whoever this Vulcan is, I am in his debt."

She smiled and kissed his neck, nipping slightly at him before sighing into his warm embrace. They stood there in perfect silence for perhaps twenty minutes, and then she spoke again. "Oratt, my love?" she breathed.

"Yes?"

"Can you please make love to me tonight? I need you."

He looked down at her, his dark and hardened expression softening, and he kissed her lips with soft tenderness. "As you wish, my wife," he purred in her ear, then led her to his bed.

…

Oratt awoke, wondering briefly why he felt so contented, so comfortable, so...good. It wasn't until he saw Desiree, his Desiree, laying with him that he remembered the events of the last few days, of last night...he sighed in contentment and planted a tender kiss on his wife's temple. Wasn't it about time they bonded in a Vulcan union? He desired a fuller relationship with her, everything he hadn't had with T'Resh.

His eyes dropped to her stomach, and he allowed himself a tiny smile at the sight of the tiny bump, that first swelling of her belly where his child would grow for the next six months. He stroked her hair and inhaled her scent...why had he not appreciated how divine her aroma was? It was intoxicating in the most wonderful way, and made him salivate for a taste of her...he noted the number of bite marks she bore on her creamy skin, and he once again buried his nose in her caramel locks and inhaled deeply. _Desiree...my Desiree..._

He reluctantly slipped from her side and padded into the front room, to the console. A tiny light on the side was flashing silently, indicating that he had a message. He stared at it, dumbfounded, and he summoned Desiree, awoke her with a simple tug of the bond.

He was amazed that he could sense, smell and hear her approach before he saw her walk into the room, and he smiled ever so slightly as she stretched and yawned. She looked heavenly in the morning light, the sunlight making her hair shine in the most agreeable way...

He hurried to her side and wrapped an arm around her to draw her to himself before she was even done stretching. She gave him an incredulous but teasing look, and when she relaxed from her stretch, she lowered her arms around his neck. He kissed her lips, trembling with excitement, knowing he would have to meditate this all away later. But for now, he allowed himself this moment with his wife, his beautiful Desiree.

"What is it, Oratt?" she murmured, yawning again. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and purred.

"They have dropped all charges," he whispered, and she pulled back, disbelief shining in her beautiful deep blue eyes.

"What?" she asked, slowly cupping his cheek, as if she could not believe this to be true. He leaned into her touch and kissed her again.

"The Council of Physicians and the High Command have all dropped their charges against me," he repeated, holding her close. "Desiree...let's go home."

She smirked up at him. "But we're in your house! Isn't this-"

He cut her off with a kiss, trying to convey through his touch how much he wanted to get away from here. The corruption that had led to his arrest was opening his eyes to how twisted his home planet had become. Though the threat of prejudice still lingered on Earth, it was Vulcan who had punished them for their actions, not Earth. His home planet was falling into ruin, and only now could he see how low they had already fallen.

"No, Desiree," he whispered, pulling back from their kiss just enough to speak. "This is no longer my home. My place is with you, on Earth, with our child..." He placed a hand over her swelling abdomen, feeding her the pleasure he felt at the sight. She smiled ruefully.

"But what about your career, your job-"

"I am a senior physician in the Inter-species Medical Exchange," he said quickly, stroking her hair. "I can have my choice of assignments. I'm sure there are many institutions who would be pleased to have my experience in their ranks. I will find work on Earth, near to our home."

She sighed and leaned into him. "This...this is actually a relief. I don't think my body could handle much more of this heat."

He kissed her forehead. "We will be on our way home soon. But I'm sure your body would have adjusted in time. Humans are much more resilient than my species gives credit for." He looked down at her, pride bubbling in his chest. "My _telsu_, my Desiree endured a fever with ease. She carries my child and stays faithful to me in times of doubt." He kissed her full on the lips, pouring every ounce of gratitude he felt towards her through the bond, until she gasped with the depth of the feeling. "She is more than able to live on my planet, if someday it becomes a more suitable home."

"Ok," she conceded. "I'll pack my things."

He nodded. "We will leave as soon as we can. But there is something I must do first."

…

Yuris was just about to make some tea when the doorchime rang. He knew it couldn't be Strom's biweekly visit; his chosen brother had come the day before yesterday and wouldn't return until tomorrow. His family rarely visited, so it was unlikely it was a member of his clan. He hurried to answer the door, straightening his robes as he went.

The man on the other side of the door was the last person Yuris expected to see at his door. The last time they had spoken, he had assured Yuris that he would see him suspended, see him lose his standing with the medical exchange. But the man standing before him was not the man he had known years ago. This was a man transformed by joy and grief, who carried the look of a man burdened with suspicions, if not secrets. He could hardly believe that he was Oratt of Shi'Kahr.

Oratt raised the _ta'al _and bowed his head in respect. Yuris frowned slightly, but returned the gesture.

"Greetings, Yuris," Oratt began, his tone contrite and soft, unlike the harsh, pompous tone he usually took with those beneath him. "May I come in, and speak with you?"

Yuris bowed his head and let Oratt enter, and the man lingered near the door as Yuris fetched some water. Oratt accepted the offering with soft thanks, and Yuris fixed him with a grave stare.

"If I may be so bold, Osu...why are you here?"

Oratt stiffened slightly, but held Yuris' gaze. "To apologize for my behavior on Dekendi."

Yuris waited, dumbfounded, and the elder physician breathed in slowly. "I was wrong to persecute you so fiercely, Yuris. You are a good man, and I doubt you've harmed anyone with your...ability...Please forgive me if I say that I am still uncertain where I stand regarding...melders...the last few days have...spread doubt in me about our society."

Yuris blinked several times before he spoke. "I accept your apology, Osu. Though I doubt there is much you can do to help me now."

"Not true, Yuris," Oratt retorted with a triumphant gleam in his eye. Yuris had never seen such a look on the old man's face. "I will do what I can to re-instate you to your old position."

It took at least a minute for that statement to sink into him. "Osu..."

"Call me Oratt, Yuris. I will no longer be residing on Vulcan, but on Earth, with she who is my _telsu_, and our child," he said, a hint of pride in his lofty voice. "I will work to help you from there. If I can find a commission on Earth, would you be agreeable to moving there?"

Yuris raised his eyebrows. "Wherever I am needed, wherever I can help others, Osu...Oratt..."

He thought he saw a smile on the old man's lips, and the man's brown eyes were glittering with satisfaction. "Very well, Yuris, then I will take my leave of you. Our transport leaves at 1500. Good day."

He turned to leave, but Yuris called him back. "Oratt."

The senior physician turned to him, his expression still contrite. "I hope you can forgive me in time for what I have done to you, Yuris."

He nodded. "Did I hear you correctly? _Telsu_, and a child as well?"

Oratt's eyes flashed with what looked like joy. "Yes."

"What is her name, if I may ask?"

"Desiree. Desiree Beaumont."

"She is human."

Oratt nodded. "She is the most compassionate and loving creature I have met in all my days. She has made me new."

Yuris nodded, genuinely happy that Oratt had found such joy. He knew of his past from Strom, and only wished this poor, lonely man the best. The universe had decided to be kind to Oratt, it seemed, and Yuris was more than pleased to see Oratt be kind to others in return.

"Then I wish you a safe journey, and I rejoice with thee for thy child."

Oratt nodded, his eyes shining with pleasure. "Good day, Yuris. I will do all I can to help you."

Yuris watched him leave, then immediately turned on his communications console to talk to Strom.

…

Desiree flopped down on her couch, sighing heavily as Oratt handed her some tea. It had been an exhausting experience to go to Vulcan, endure that heat, and come back again, all while pregnant. She wasn't sure if it was poor health or the nature of a hybrid growing inside her, but she was sapped of energy. She panted a thank-you to her husband and leaned against him when he sat beside her.

"I received another message," Oratt said quietly. "I wanted you to be home before I told you of it."

She looked up at him. "Well?"

"The man who saved you...he has deposited a great deal of credits into my account, on the condition that I use it to build him a research facility, with myself as head director."

She sat up. "That's great! Did he tell you his name?"

"No," Oratt sighed. "He wished to remain anonymous."

Desiree frowned. "Ok...so what are you going to do?"

"I am in his debt," he replied. "If he wishes me to build a new research facility here on Earth, I will do so. If he wishes me as head director...I was head director of a clinic in Shi'Kahr, and copious amounts of research came out of labs under my direction. I am no stranger to this sort of thing...it would be work, and he is willing to pay me a great sum for my services."

Desiree nodded. "He sounds like a nice man...he was polite to me. So when are you going to start?"

"As soon as I can gather my thoughts and start plans. In other words, tomorrow. Today, I wish to focus on you. You are long overdue for a checkup, _ashaya. _We have a child to consider."

She smiled and rubbed her stomach, pushing her shirt up so Oratt could place his hand over hers. "We've been lucky so far," she whispered, leaning back into him. "Baby on the way, no health problems...you've got work now...I have to think about going back to work. My vacation is nearly over...I think I'll switch to online teaching, what do you think?"

He kissed her forehead. "I would not wish to get in the way of your career. Whatever you feel is best for you."

She sighed and nuzzled against him. "We'll see...whatever comes, we'll take it on together."

_**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and favorited and followed and all that! This story is not done by any means, and even this is one cog in a larger wheel of stories. But there will be a sequel, following Oratt's new jobs and the secrets he must hide, Turatt and his schooling, and the demons still hiding in the shadows. No, dear reader, it's not over. I'm just putting Part 1 here to bed.**_


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